


It Happens So Fast

by humorless_hexagon



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: (oh wait that's canon Marvin), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camp Counselor!Whizzer, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting to Know Each Other, Horny Dad!Marvin, Implied Sexual Content, Kinda?, M/M, Pining, Sexual Frustration, Witty Banter, awkward first encounter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2018-12-12 03:53:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humorless_hexagon/pseuds/humorless_hexagon
Summary: Marvin absolutely does not have any sort offeelingsfor Jason's summer camp counselor.Not any good ones at least.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer- I’m not Jewish and I’ve never been to New York so events taking place in this story are total bs.
> 
> Huge thank you to worrylesswritemore for being the best beta reader!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer- I’m not Jewish and I’ve never been to New York so events taking place in this story are total bs.
> 
> Huge thank you to worrylesswritemore for being the best beta reader!

When Marvin and Jason pull up to the Queens Jewish Center, they are both frowning.

 

Marvin’s fingers drum against the steering wheel. “Jason, I know you’d rather stay home, but your mother doesn’t want you to be alone all day.” He wants to add _and I spent a lot of money on these summer camp sessions,_ but Jason looks miserable enough as it is. He opts for consoling his son instead: “Maybe you’ll make a friend today.”

 

Jason sinks further into the leather seat and keeps his arms firmly crossed on his chest. “It’s _boring_.”

 

“C’mon, Kid, out of the car. I have to be at work soon.”

 

From their attitudes, an outside observer might guess that Marvin is walking his son to a funeral. They trudge across the parking lot to a table that has been set up outside. There, Marvin spies all the other parents saying goodbye to their kids as they're led over to different stations by camp counselors in matching flamingo pink shirts.

 

Marvin doesn't fail to notice the other kids' excited expressions and bright smiles. When he glances down at his own son, Jason is just wearing a petulant, dramatic frown that’s almost comedic in comparison.

 

“Do I just leave you…or… um…” Marvin stammers. Usually Trina or Mendel are the ones to drop Jason off at camp. This time, however, Trina had asked (read: forced) Marvin to take care of this duty for the week so she and Mendel could have some time to themselves (read: have sex and not have to worry about Jason).

 

“You have to sign me in at the table,” Jason mumbles as he drags his feet.

 

“Right." Marvin says tightly, silently relieved at the pointed direction, "I knew that, of course.”

 

Jason raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

 

“I was, uh, testing you," Marvin lies, trying to cover up his loss of footing at the unfamiliar, complex process, "You know, just making sure you’re paying attention.”

 

They continue their walk to the table, an imaginary dirge playing in Marvin’s head. As they approach the chaotic bunch of parents and children, Marvin makes a beeline to the least crowded section. There, a conventionally handsome counselor is just waving an exhausted looking mom off as Marvin and Jason sidle up to the table.

 

“I just sign him in here.” Marvin poses his question as a statement to try to appear less clueless. He hates not knowing what he is supposed to do - after all, Marvin was anything but an _idiot_ . But the judgmental, almost _exasperated_ look that the counselor gives him definitely makes him feel like one.

 

Jason sighs behind Marvin, making his presence known, and the counselor's eyes light up.

 

“Oh, hi there, Jason!” The counselor nods at the kid before returning his attention to Marvin, and suddenly his expression dims with disinterest again, “So are you Jason’s nanny or something?”

 

Marvin balks at the notion, gritting his teeth. “No, I’m Jason’s _dad_ .” This counselor guy is lucky he’s cute. _Nanny_ was just a belittling assumption.

 

“But I thought _Mendel_ was…" At Marvin's sharp, affronted look at the mention of the other man, Whizzer trails off, shaking his head and saying, "You know what, nevermind. It’s none of my business.”

 

Though his attention is held by the handsome man, Marvin distantly notices Jason shaking his head in embarrassment and walking over to a nearby bench where he slumps his shoulders. It’s truly pitiful. Marvin almost has half a mind to take him back to work with him.

 

The counselor- _Whizzer_ , as his cheap nametag proclaims- points to a box on the sign-in sheet. He sounds perfectly polite but detached, as if Marvin is just _one_ of dozens of parents, as if he's so _disinteresting._ “Signature there, sir.”

 

Marvin almost bristles at the formality of the title. He’s not that much older than Whizzer- at least not old enough to be a “sir.” Marvin doesn't think that the phrasing is even deliberate until he catches something in Whizzer’s confident smirk, and Marvin gets the distinct impression that he's being baited.

 

“Trina was my wife. We got divorced nearly two years ago.” Marvin explains covertly as he hands the sign-in sheet back to Whizzer. He is trying to prove a point, but he doesn’t exactly know what that point is.

 

Whizzer nods hesitantly. “Uh, okay?”

 

“It was for the better,” Marvin admits.

 

Whizzer looks strained and  uncomfortable, making Marvin realize he overshared. Looking for an escape, Marvin calls Jason over from the bench. The kid reluctantly walks up to the table.

 

“Hey, Whizzer.”

 

“Ready to go, Jason?” Whizzer asks, but he's still side-eying Marvin. Marvin hates how he preens a little when he finally sees a brief hint of interest in the other man's calculated gaze.

 

“I guess. See you, Dad.” Jason could not sound more unenthusiastic. And Marvin feels for the kid- he really does.

 

“See you this afternoon, Kiddo,” is Marvin’s weak response.

 

As Whizzer leads Jason away, Marvin takes a moment to admire just how pretty the camp counselor is. Whizzer’s hair appears to be soft and very, very pettable. His outfit, despite being the uniform obnoxious pink, is well-fitted and hugs his body perfectly, showing off his muscled physique. _No one_ should be allowed to look that good in a polo shirt. Jason says something, causing Whizzer to laugh- and _wow_.

 

Marvin ambles back to the car, berating himself for both finding Jason’s camp counselor cute and how badly he fucked up his first impression.

 

* * *

 

“Are you alright, Marvin? You’ve been staring at the same document for nearly fifteen minutes now.”

 

“Hmmm?” Marvin glances up to see one of his co-workers staring down at him. She wears an unimpressed expression behind her heavy makeup and large cat-eyed glasses. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

 

“What’s on your mind, Marv?” She asks, voice like syrup. She rolls a chair over from the unoccupied neighboring desk and leans her elbows on the table with a too-sweet smile.

 

Marvin sighs. He knows this game. Girls liked to play it with him sometimes in bars- sometimes even at synagogue. Usually, it happens when he was alone, although Jason has played witness to some of Marvin’s finer gameplay moments.

 

The woman (whose name Marvin can’t be bothered to know) puts a hand on his arm and gently rubs a circle with her thumb.

 

And sometimes the game happens at work.

 

Marvin likes to think he is well practiced in his game strategy- let the lady down easy, tell her some textbook lie that he wasn’t interested or that he was already seeing someone. But something always seems to happen between his brain and his mouth, causing him to be a bit uncouth.

 

“You’re not my type,” Marvin says bluntly as he pulls his arm away. The woman looks a bit hurt.

 

“You don’t even know me that well, though,” she pouts. “What’s your type?”

 

Whizzer’s self-assured smirk and perfectly combed hair pop into Marvin’s head, which is ridiculous because he’s only had _one conversation_ with him.

 

“Not you.” Marvin turns back to the document he was trying to read. He feels a little sorry for being so hard on the woman, but it does the trick. She storms away with a flustered huff. It’s another win for Marvin, but it leaves him feeling lonely.

 

However, even as the distraction is gone, Marvin’s mind begins to wander from the document. The reason he had been so unfocused in the first place was because he'd been brainstorming ways to re-introduce himself to Whizzer.

 

_Hi, I’m Jason’s dad. Sorry I was such an asshole this morning. I think you’re cute._

 

_Greetings, you probably won’t remember me but I’m that guy who shared his romantic history with you this morning and I forgot to mention that I’m gay and you’re hot._

 

_Hey, I’m Marvin. You should sleep with me._

 

Marvin puts his head in his hands and groans. He should have never had let Trina talk him into taking Jason for the week, then he wouldn’t be stuck lusting over Jason’s hot Jewish summer camp leader.

  
With a deep breath, Marvin decides in that moment that he _hates_ attractive camp counselors- _especially_ ones with nice hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first multichapter thing I've written in _years_ so stick with me and my inconsistent updates. That being said, comments fuel me and will encourage me to actually write ;). You can find me at livendiefortissimo on tumblr if you want to drop a prompt or bully me!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin doesn't mean to discover more about Whizzer, it just happens.

After seeing him four more times, Marvin learns several things about Whizzer. The first time, Marvin finally pins a last name to the pretty face: _Brown_ . _Whizzer Brown_. It sounds like the name of a celebrity, maybe a famous athlete or model.

 

It comes up when Marvin picks Jason up from camp that first day. Although he spent the day at work revising his re-introduction, Marvin still struggles to solidify any actual plan. Ultimately, he decides to give it up and just ignore Whizzer if he sees him. It isn’t like the guy deserves Marvin’s attention anyways. He was snide and rude and… really, _really_ attractive.

 

_I’m here to pick up Jason, I’m here to pick up Jason_ , becomes Marvin’s mantra as he gets out of the car.

 

The chaos of frantic parents at the sign-in table is a familiar sight, the only difference being that they’re now retrieving their screaming children rather than dumping them off to be someone else’s problem. Marvin keeps his eyes peeled for Jason, but his attention strays whenever he sees a taller build or pristine brunette head.

 

“Looking for someone?” a shorter woman in a bright pink shirt asks. She’s holding a clipboard with an attendance sheet on it.

 

Marvin nods hesitantly, “My son, Jason.”

 

She scans the roster and smiles knowingly. “Jason, of course! I think he’s inside hanging out with Whizzer.”

 

“With _Whizzer_?” Marvin nearly chokes. Betrayed by his own son- this offense would not be forgotten.

 

“Whizzer Brown,” the counselor explains, unaware of Marvin’s previous encounter. “He’s a camp favorite- the kids love him. He gets along with Jason better than anyone else has managed to.” She seems completely oblivious to Marvin’s agony. “I’ll go get Jason for you!”

 

As she wanders off, Marvin’s mind traitorously runs through all of his conversation options he had previously brainstormed- each one seems worse than the last. ‘ _Hey, I’m Marvin. You should sleep with me’?_ What was he even thinking? That’s how guys get black eyes, not hookups. Resigned, Marvin closes his eyes and massages his temple with his hands.

 

Jason’s voice shakes him out of his focus (or lack thereof): “Dad, are you alright?”

 

Marvin looks up to see Jason and Whizzer approaching, the former looking concerned and the latter looking complacent and _stupid_.

 

“Ah yes, Jason’s dad-not-nanny,” Whizzer remarks. His playful smile makes it obvious it's a joke, but Marvin can still feel heat rise to his cheeks.

 

“It’s Marvin.” He clarifies, his voice harsher than intended. Whizzer blinks, thrown by Marvin’s snide tone, and the playful edge drips from his smile.

 

“Whizzer. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Even though he’s smiling, Whizzer’s words are clipped and precise. He’s polite, but his tone oozes sarcasm. Marvin can’t decide if he wants to kiss or punch Whizzer right on his pretty lips.

 

“You can sign _your son_ out back at the tables.”

 

Marvin genuinely forgot that Jason is with them. Not that it was his fault that Whizzer made his vision tunnel and steal all of his focus. He tries to hide his mistake through a sharp, “ _Thank you_.”

 

Jason gives his father a quizzical look but thankfully doesn’t comment. He looks too exhausted to be his usual nosy self. Marvin can hardly imagine what he’s had to put up with “hanging out” with Whizzer. Signing Jason out is an easier affair, but Marvin is hyper aware of Whizzer scrutinizing him the entire time.

 

Walking away from the Jewish Center, Marvin feels like he was just part of some weird power play. Although, that was probably looking too far into things. Whizzer was just a dick that got his rocks off by harassing innocent single men and making them imagine things that weren’t there. Things like mutual attraction, and flirting, and sexual tension.

 

Marvin is sure of it- none of those things actually exist between him and Whizzer Brown.

 

As soon as he gets home, Marvin looks up the guy’s name and promptly attempts to stalk him on Facebook, where he is met with a private account. This is unexpected considering how extroverted Whizzer seems, but it just does more to fuel Marvin’s interest.

 

The only thing Marvin has permission to see is the small profile image. Whizzer’s picture is a shirtless selfie of him at some tropical beach. His shoulders are pink from the sun, and the cheesiness of his “seductive” expression is only accentuated by the sunglasses he is wearing. Even slightly frizzy from the beach air, his hair still looks good. Due to Facebook’s militaristic privacy settings, Marvin is unable to glean more information from Whizzer’s profile. He shuts down his computer without sending a friend request.

* * *

Another thing Marvin learns is that Whizzer Brown is the talk of all of the single moms that take their kids to the Queens Jewish Center on weekdays for summer camp sessions from nine to five. After dropping off Jason the second day, the mom of some brat begins talking to Marvin like they’re good friends.

 

“So lovely of the counselors to volunteer their time to do this.”

 

It takes Marvin a minute to realize she’s talking to him. “Oh, yeah. Real nice.” He’s ninety-nine percent sure they’re actually paid and not “volunteering their time,” but he doesn’t have the heart to break it to her.

 

“Although, I feel bad for them sometimes.” she says airily.

 

Marvin laughs in agreement. “I know. I can hardly take care of one kid; I don’t know how they manage nearly a hundred of the little monsters.”

 

She laughs politely. “I think the parents are worse than the kids sometimes though.”

 

This catches Marvin off-guard. “What?”

 

“Have you really not heard some of things people say?” At Marvin’s dumbstruck look, she guides him over to a group of adults who are in a covert circle.

 

“Good morning, Everyone,” the woman approaches the group with a wave. They instantly break apart to make more room for her and Marvin.

 

“Hey, Lorraine. Who’s your friend?”

 

“Marvin,” he states, weirdly feeling small under the intense gazes of the other parents.

 

Lorraine is perfectly natural as she addresses the group. “What’s the morning news?”

 

“Diane was just giving us the weekly Whizzer gossip.”

 

“It’s so annoying how just because some women aren’t married, they think they have some sort of right to drool over him.” She sounds envious while she complains, like she wishes she wasn’t imprisoned by the studded band on her finger. A few people in the group turn to Marvin as if they expect him to comment.

 

Marvin finds himself at a loss for words. “It’s very…. Unprofessional.”

 

“Exactly!” Diane nods her head emphatically. The rest of the parents murmur in agreement. “He’s a child caretaker, not a gigolo.” She glares across the way at the woman casually touching Whizzer’s shoulder. Yup- she’s definitely jealous.

 

“Marvin and I better head out,” Lorraine nudges Marvin, who gets the hint and nods along.

 

“Nice talking with you guys.”

 

There’s a chorus of _see you tomorrow’s_ and _goodbye’s_ as Marvin and Lorraine head out to the parking lot.

 

“See what I mean?” Lorraine asks when they’re out of earshot. “The parents are just as petty as the kids.”

 

“I have a new respect for summer camp counselors.”

 

“And you should,” Lorraine says matter-of-factly. “Have a nice day, Marvin.”

 

Marvin gets into his car and comes to the grim realization that he himself, with his mixed desire to fight and fuck Whizzer, is one of those petty parents.

* * *

 

The final thing Marvin learns about Whizzer is that Jason freaking _adores_ him.

 

It’s Wednesday evening. Marvin had gotten Jason signed out with no sign of Whizzer, which had Marvin feeling a weird mix of relief and loss. The talk that he had had with Lorraine earlier that day left him with a guilty conscious, and seeing Whizzer would likely exacerbate that. But still…

 

“Whizzer’s really bad at chess, but he’s getting better.” Jason says cheerfully from where he sits on the couch watching television. Marvin is making dinner and the conversation has been mostly one-sided so far, but the mention of Whizzer causes alarm bells to go off in his mind.

 

“What’s so good about that guy anyways? He seems like a jerk.” Marvin tries to comment offhandedly, but Jason turns around and leans his head over the back of the couch.

 

“Dad, you’re a jerk too.”

 

“I don’t try to deny it, though.” Marvin defends himself. It’s met with an eyeroll and a smile. Marvin has to hand it to Whizzer- Jason hasn’t been this talkative or lighthearted around Marvin for a long time. An unconscious smile finds its way onto his lips as he finishes boiling the pasta.

 

Unprompted, Jason turns off the TV and sits down at the dining room table. He’s quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he speaks. “I don’t know. Whizzer is just really cool. I think he sorta gets me.”

 

Marvin snorts as he spoons a meatball onto Jason’s plate. “How so?”

 

“Well... he doesn’t freak out like you and Mom when I don’t want to hang out with other kids, for starters.”

 

“Point taken.” Marvin joins his son at the table, dinner plates in hand. Admittedly, the whole “Jason needs to go to a psychiatrist” stint while he and Trina were still working out the divorce might have been a bit overdone.

 

Jason pauses thoughtfully before adding, “And he plays chess with me even though he’s awful at it.”

 

“He can’t really be that bad, can he?” The mental image of Whizzer playing chess with the kid and losing is hilarious. Marvin smiles as he chews.

 

Jason slurps his spaghetti with an impish grin. “Yeah, he’s pretty terrible. I got him to start with the pawn instead of the knight today.”

 

“So he plays chess with you? Is that the only thing that makes Whizzer ‘the favorite?’”

 

Jason scoffs, “‘The favorite?’ Jeez, Dad, it sounds like you like him more than I do.”

 

“I-I don’t- it’s not-” Something tight contricts in in Marvin’s stomach. Why would Jason say something so stupid? He couldn’t fathom the idea of actually _liking_ Whizzer.

 

“Just a joke, Dad. You don’t need to freak out.” Marvin can’t tell whether or not he’s hallucinating the knowing glint in Jason’s eyes.

 

“R-right.”

 

They eat in silence like usual, but it's more comfortable than previous dinners. Instead of stifling and awkward, there’s a pleasant and natural air- which, as different as it is, is a nice feeling.

 

Jason doesn’t fight when Marvin tells him it’s bedtime, which is a relief because Marvin isn’t ready to let go of this weirdly functional relationship with his son.

 

When Marvin falls asleep, he dreams of pretty boys playing chess who laugh when they lose over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited about the feedback you guys have given me so far!! Thank you for all of the kudos and comments, they always make my day.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at livendiefortissimo if you want to yell with me about musicals!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin talks with Trina and has an interesting shopping experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka the chapter where Marvin and Whizzer actually have a legitimate interaction

“You want to keep taking Jason to camp?” Trina asks incredulously. “What’s the ulterior motive?”

 

“I see him two days a week, on average. Jason’s my son too you know.” Marvin intentionally fails to mention the cute camp counselor whose perfect face matched his perfect hair and his perfect ass.

 

Trina sneers, “He acts out enough to prove that.”

 

Marvin is tired of their routine. He and Trina only talk when one of them needs something from the other or if something happens with Jason. It’s always the same: want, complain, fight, repeat. The conflict is draining, unlike the banter Marvin shares with Whizzer. Marvin strikes the thought as soon as it enters his head; the number of times he’s thought of Whizzer, often in comparison to his ex-wife, is getting alarming.

 

“Please, Trina, just let me do this one thing,” Marvin sighs desperately. 

 

Something in Trina’s expression softens, and Marvin almost sees a glimpse of the old Trina, the one who never talked back and was everyone’s personal doormat. “Fine.”

 

Marvin lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank you Trina I-”

 

She holds up a commanding finger. This was the new, current Trina who did things for herself and didn’t care about the neighbors’ opinion of her. “You can take Jason Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings and pick him up Friday afternoons to stay at your place for the weekends.”

 

Marvin deflates a bit, but it’s better than nothing.

 

“I’m only letting you do this because Mendel and I are both working.”

 

“Of course.”

 

She falters. “We could handle it without you I just didn’t want-”

 

“Trina, I get it. It’s fine.” Despite all that they’ve been through, Marvin is almost proud of her for finally taking charge of her life. He likes to think that, in his own sick, twisted way, he was the one to trigger that.

 

She gives him a look which is the signal that it’s time for him to leave, which he does amicably. 

 

Although the sun hangs low in the sky, it persistently radiates an unbearable summer heat. Monday evenings were consistently the part of the week Marvin dreaded the most. His apartment always seemed so much emptier without Jason lounging on furniture or watching TV- especially after spending nearly a full week with the kid. Even the “gourmet” iced-coffee he splurges on on the way home doesn’t do anything to lighten Marvin’s mood.

 

In his apartment, Marvin distracts himself from his loneliness by preparing for the next day. He can usually work from home, but an important meeting at the office has been scheduled for tomorrow morning. Preparing is a simple task of packing a bag with his laptop and the significant paperwork and getting his suit prepared for tomorrow. He selects parts of his ensemble between sips of his now lukewarm iced-coffee.

 

It's all so bland and unexciting. Marvin’s mind wanders while he mechanically sets out his clothes. 

 

_ What’s Whizzer doing right now? Probably something interesting like feeding the homeless or attending a social event for the rich and beautiful. _

 

Marvin stops and holds up a shirt. Its an worn-in, starched white button-up. The buttons are a little loose and the hem around the sleeves is slightly frayed, but it’s not unwearable. Marvin can practically hear Whizzer’s obnoxious voice criticizing it.

 

“Really, Marvin?” he imitates Whizzer with an inaccurate whine. “That looks like something a nanny would wear.“

 

Marvin unceremoniously tosses the shirt onto the bed. An echo of Whizzer’s laugh rings through Marvin’s head and his chest tightens.

 

“God he’s such a prick!” Marvin groans. Forgetting that he is holding his coffee in one hand, he dramatically flails his arms. The cup sails through the air in a slow motion arc that falls upon Marvin’s haphazard stack of clothes. Terrible coffee instantly stains the front of the shirt he had just laid out.

 

“Shit,” Marvin huffs to himself, mesmerized by the dark brown slowly being absorbed by the white cotton. There would be no getting that one out. Ah well, no big deal- there are always other shirts.

 

He hurriedly looks through his closet for a replacement before realizing the only appropriate ones are all at the dry cleaners. “ _ Shit _ !”

* * *

 

Marvin finds himself in the business formal aisle of the local department store. The dozens of nearly identical white shirts that surround him overwhelm him with possibilities. He grabs a shirt at random- too big. Another shirt- too small. Another shirt-

 

“You’re not planning to go anywhere wearing _ that _ , are you?” a condescending voice calls from down the aisle. Marvin turns around and is affronted with a charming- no- smug grin. Marvin’s stomach drops to his knees.

 

“Whizzer. Surprise seeing you here.”

 

Marvin’s flat tone seems to make Whizzer’s smile curve tighter as he strides up to Marvin. “Jason’s dad-not-nanny!” 

 

Marvin narrows his eyes, trying (and failing) to keep his cool.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry,  _ Marvin _ ,” Whizzer drags out the name like he’s proving a point. “I wasn’t joking, though; that shirt is a hot mess.”

 

The shirt is actually pretty slick by Marvin’s standards. “I think it looks fine!”

 

“Mmhmm of course you would.” Whizzer crosses his arms and won’t stop with his stupid self-assured smile.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Marvin’s tone is aggressive. If Whizzer wants to pick a fight, then a fight he’ll get.

 

But he seems to have other plans. Whizzer gives Marvin a once over with a critical eye. Unconsciously, Marvin straightens his back and tries to make himself appear to be less like the type of guy who only buys new shirts when he spills coffee on his old ones. Without responding to the question, Whizzer scans the rack and pulls out another shirt. He nods to himself as he holds it up to Marvin’s chest.

 

“Try this one, it's a double cuff by Thomas Pink. Can’t go wrong with that.”

 

“What… what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Marvin has a feeling that even if Whizzer did explain, the knowledge would go over his head.

 

Whizzer exchanges his choice of shirt with the one Marvin is holding. After hanging it up, he firmly ushers Marvin to the nearby dressing room. “Just try it.”

 

Marvin is alone in the dressing room facing his reflection. He wishes he had ran a comb through his hair or changed out of his faded “I HEART CANCUN” shirt he got years ago during a long-forgotten family vacation. God only knows what judgements Whizzer was coming up with outside.

 

“Do you need help? Putting on a shirt shouldn’t be that hard,” Whizzer’s muffled teasing interrupts Marvin’s rumination.

 

“Give me a minute!” Marvin pulls off his t-shirt and slides his arms into the button-up that Whizzer selected. It’s a good fit, keeping comfortably tight to Marvin’s broader shoulders, but following the curve of his waist. He preens in the mirror for a minute, admittedly impressed.

 

Marvin peeks out of the dressing room to see Whizzer on a bench, legs crossed and thumbing his phone with disinterest. As soon as he notices Marvin, he puts his phone down and perks up.

 

“Don’t hide behind the door! I wanna see my masterpiece.”

 

Marvin instinctively scoffs as he walks out. “I wouldn’t call it a masterpiece but-”

 

“Screw you, Marvin. I did a pretty damn good job.” Whizzer sounds genuinely pleased with himself. He steps closer to Marvin and straightens the shirt’s collar. 

 

It’s so cliche how Whizzer’s spicy cologne makes Marvin’s head spin or how his heartbeat slightly accelerates as Whizzer bites his lip in focus. 

 

Whizzer steps back and admires his work with the same scrutinizing look as before. Marvin expects Whizzer to congratulate himself again, but he still seems dissatisfied.

 

“What now?” Marvin asks when Whizzer wordlessly shakes his head.

 

“It’s missing something…” he explains vaguely. “Luckily, I snagged this while you were struggling to get changed.” Whizzer produces a burgundy tie seemingly from thin air.

 

Marvin snorts, “I don’t need a tie, I have plenty at home.”

 

“But do you have one as stylish and commanding as this one? It’s silk,” Whizzer sing-songs.

 

Marvin raises a challenging eyebrow. It takes more than a fancy tie to make him give into peer pressure.

 

“Aw, c’mon, Marvin. You haven’t even tried it on. Just for fun.”

 

Marvin doesn’t budge. He has an adolescent son: he knows this type of persuasion _ very _ well.

 

“Fine, for me then? Please?” Whizzer subtly bats his eyelashes, which makes Marvin’s insides do acrobatics and his brain to imagine Whizzer begging for something much less PG. It works, though. Marvin could never say to anyone who looked at him like  _ that _ .

 

“Alright, fine,” he acquiesces.

 

Whizzer basks in his victory and wraps the tie around Marvin’s neck, starting to tie it. Marvin gently slaps Whizzer’s hand away and pulls the fabric towards himself.

 

“I can tie my own tie.”

 

Whizzer cocks an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because the disgrace of a Windsor you had the other day spoke otherwise.”

 

Despite the mockery, Marvin is oddly touched that Whizzer even remembers that Marvin was wearing a tie the last time they saw each other. Still, Marvin is a _ goddamn _ adult and ties his own  _ goddamn _ tie, Whizzer’s stupid smirk boring through him the entire time.

 

“What?”

 

Whizzer’s giggle somehow manages to sound both pleasant and condescending: “It’s just- You didn’t do it right.” 

 

“Fine, if you’re such a professional, you can do it,” Marvin lampoons.

 

Whizzer’s response is equally satirical. “Thank you for such a  _ generous _ offer.” He starts unravelling Marvin’s failed attempt with steady hands. Marvin tries and fails to fight the small smile that pushes onto his lips. There’s something about Whizzer’s taller build hovering over him that gives Marvin a fuzzy sensation in his chest.

 

Whizzer mumbles unintelligible instructions to himself while he navigates both ends of the fabric to make a solid Windsor knot at the top of Marvin’s shirt. It’s all so tame and endearing- which isn’t Marvin’s style at all- but it’s nice. 

 

Now when Whizzer steps back, he does it with a satisfied nod. Marvin looks in the mirror and puffs out his chest with pride. He can’t remember the last time he wore something so fitted, but it looks good. Whizzer really does have the magic eye.

 

“I don’t know what to say,” Marvin huffs. 

 

“Well, a  _ thank you _ would be nice.”

 

“Thank you, Whizzer,” Marvin says wholeheartedly. In an obnoxious voice, he adds, “You’re my hero, how could I ever repay you?”

 

Whizzer’s eyes narrow as if he’s challenging Marvin. “I believe the hero usually gets a kiss from the damsel in distress after she’s been rescued.”

 

Marvin speaks before he knows what he’s saying: “That can be arranged.” His own forwardness shocks him.

 

There’s a beat of silence where both of them face each other, unsure what move to make. Whizzer looks incredulous but… intrigued? Marvin can’t quite place it.

 

Marvin can feel himself leaning forward very slightly, but is interrupted when Whizzer bursts out laughing and roughly grabs Marvin’s shoulder. The deep belly laugh shakes Marvin both physically and spiritually. He gives a small chuckle that is obviously forced. Whizzer doesn’t seem to notice and keeps laughing.

 

“You’re a funny guy, Marvin,” Whizzer says breathily once he’s done.

 

Marvin once thought that Whizzer’s laugh was like a pop song; terrible yet catchy and uplifting. Now, it made the butterflies in his stomach become rocks full of dread. Whizzer thought he was a _ joke _ . It was just as he predicted: Whizzer was just a stupid asshole that made other stupid people imagine things that weren’t there and got their hopes up for nothing.

 

_ What was I even hoping for? _ Marvin asks himself. What was it that he wanted? A pretty face? An easy fuck?

 

Marvin raises his eyes up to Whizzer. The bright, joyful energy radiating from his face makes Marvin want to vomit. 

 

He’s never felt more confused about anything in his life.

 

“It’s getting late.” Whizzer looks down at his watch. “Have you eaten yet? Do you wanna buy your clothes and then grab dinner with me? I was thinking Chinese.”

 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Marvin says distantly. He doesn’t know why he agrees. Getting dinner with Whizzer would be like a date- not that Whizzer would want a date. Marvin knows when he’s deluding himself. It’s an awful idea, but he can’t resist giving into the fantasy, just for the evening.

 

Whizzer smiles. It’s sincere and oddly  _ kind _ . In that moment, Marvin can see why Jason is so crazy about the guy.

 

“Good,” Whizzer echoes.

 

Marvin wants something from Whizzer, but he can’t quite place it. There’s a nameless something that makes Marvin’s breath catch in his throat and his heart race whenever he thinks of Whizzer.

 

And, while Marvin doesn’t know what that something is, he knows without a doubt that it scares the living shit out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say w o w????? The response this fic has gotten is super inspiring and I really appreciate every comment, kudo, and message on tumblr I have received. You rock!!!
> 
> If commenting on here isn't your jam, you can send me anonymous messages @ livendiefortissimo on tumblr!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some weeks are more exhausting than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter (again, minor, but I'd rather be safe than sorry): Questionable parenting and someone is outed w/o their knowledge.

The tiny white numbers in the corner of Marvin’s computer screen tell him it's almost one in the morning. He rubs his eyes for what must have been the fifth time in the last ten seconds. He’s getting too old to be staying up so late, especially when he’s supposed to take Jason to camp in the morning. And see Whizzer.

 

Whizzer, _fuck_.

 

Marvin rubs his eyes again and firmly places his hand on the mouse of the desktop. He squints at the time again: 1:02. Maybe he’ll just stay awake for a few more minutes...

 

He’s been playing this game for the past few hours- pretending to be brave, then putting off his mission, rub his eyes, watch a cat video, aimlessly scroll through facebook, end up on Whizzer’s Facebook profile.

 

Hover over “Add Friend.”

 

Stare at Whizzer’s stupid sunglasses and sunburnt shoulders, check the time.

 

Pretend to be brave. Do nothing.

 

Dinner with Whizzer the other night had gone fine; Marvin had tried to be likable, and even succeeded in getting Whizzer to laugh at his stupid jokes. It just all was so _wrong_. Marvin hated every moment of sitting across from each other in the cramped booth, awkwardly fitting small talk in between mouthfuls of orange chicken and fried rice. He had spoken too loud and stared too much and was confident that Whizzer could see right through him.

 

Marvin rests his finger on the left button of the mouse.

 

When they were going their separate ways in the parking lot, Whizzer’s expression softened and he said, “I had fun tonight.”

 

At the time, Marvin could only nod in response. He was convinced it was another ploy- Whizzer was just teasing him. Leading him on again. _Playing a game_.

 

As Marvin kneads his face and his vision refocuses on Whizzer’s profile picture, he’s not sure what to think. The white numbers rudely announce that it’s 1:21. In less than eight hours, Marvin would see Whizzer again and have to deal with his ever present smug smirk and his fitted shorts.

 

Marvin’s heavy eyelids close over his dry eyes. It really is too late to be up- he needs to get into bed. Whizzer’s beach selfie mocks him from the computer screen. Internally, Marvin wishes he could be just as carefree and easygoing.

 

But, no. Here he is at one in the morning, hunched over his computer, deliberating whether or not to send a _friend request_.

 

Whizzer makes him so stupid it’s unbearable.

 

But Marvin isn’t stupid and he isn’t about to let a pretty-boy camp counselor get the best of him. Spitefully, he pretends to be brave for the last time. When he grabs the mouse this time, he does so with a purpose. The cursor shakily hovers over “Add Friend.”

 

And Marvin signs his fate over with the _click_ of a mouse.

* * *

By some miracle, Whizzer isn’t at the check-in table the next morning. Jason begrudgingly walks off with a peppy woman in a bun, and that seems to be the end of it. There’s a hollowness in Marvin’s chest that he can’t quite place. He can’t figure out if its better or worse than the giddiness that was there prior.

 

“Are you okay, Marvin? You look like you’ve hadn’t had a great morning so far,” Lorraine comments, sneaking up behind Marvin. Her calm and benevolent aura is more prominent than ever.

 

“It’s- I’m okay, really. I just couldn’t sleep well last night.” After he had shut his computer down for the night, Marvin expected sleep to hit him like a truck; however, thoughts about how Whizzer would react to the friend request kept Marvin tossing and turning for what seemed like eons.

 

“Is something bothering you?”

 

Marvin almost confesses. He almost tells Lorraine everything he’s bottled up in the last week, from his confusing mix of lust and a need of petty conflict with Whizzer, to the new shirt and tie hanging in his closet.

 

“No, it was probably the coffee I had after dinner that kept me up.”

 

Lorraine hums and watches her surroundings in serene reflection. Marvin can’t tell what’s so peaceful about a bunch of kids being abandoned by their exhausted parents for the day- but hey, to each his own.

 

“You missed Diane’s weekly tirade about her husband. I’m surprised someone can talk so poorly about their partner and still choose to stay with them.”

 

“I can, it took me years to divorce my ex-wife,” Marvin admits. Being honest with Lorraine relieves some of the nervous tension in his shoulders.

 

“Trina right?’ Lorraine turns to him with her glittering, all-knowing eyes.

 

“How did you know?” Marvin interrogates, eyebrows high on his forehead.

 

Lorraine smiles cryptically. “You'd be surprised what information you can glean from gossip.”

 

Marvin doesn’t ask- he _really_ doesn’t want to know.

 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you and Trina break up?”

 

“Oh- it’s pretty complicated. I… I made some pretty bad choices… Trina wasn’t good for me,” Marvin says quietly.

 

Lorraine nods in understanding and doesn’t press any further.

 

They make amiable small talk for a few minutes. As they begin to make their exit, Marvin looks through the throng of children, parents, and counselors, failing to make Whizzer out from the crowd. He’s angry at himself for the chilling _disappointment_ he feels.

 

“Marvin.” Lorraine looks at him with hard, serious eyes that shakes him out of his self-contempt. “You’re going to find the right person for you, someday. Maybe it wasn’t Trina, but there is someone coming. I just know it.”

 

“I- uh.. Thanks Lorraine. That means a lot.” And it really does.

 

She shirks her severe attitude with a wink and hops into her minivan, leaving Marvin alone in the parking lot. He can hear children’s laughter in the distance, and he hasn’t felt this lonely in a long time.

* * *

Early the next day, Marvin is back on his computer, scrolling through Facebook with a determined fever. He deliberately ignores the “Pending Friend Request” from Whizzer’s profile that haunts him.

 

It’s been a whole thirty hours since Marvin had sent the request. With the amount of time people spent nowadays on social media, Whizzer had surely seen it by now. Was he just leading Marvin on again? Driving him insane on purpose? Marvin can envision Whizzer cackling maniacally behind a computer screen like an overdramatic Disney villain. The idea makes Marvin’s knuckles go white where they’re grabbing the arms of his chair.

 

He forcefully pushes himself away from the computer. This whole ordeal is getting out of hand. Marvin does not let his emotions get the best of him, or fanatically obsess over guys, or have something as stupid and childish as a _crush_.

 

And, yeah, Whizzer is attractive, but it’s not like he’s particularly nice or considerate. Whizzer’s not boyfriend material, he’s just a pretty face. A pretty face with good cologne and an eye for fashion. And a charming smile. And a laugh that makes Marvin’s stomach do acrobatics.

 

_And_ Marvin does not _“like”_ him.

 

It takes a whole two minutes before Marvin breaks and checks his Facebook once more.

 

Unsurprisingly, his friend request to Whizzer is still pending.

* * *

Much to Marvin’s satisfaction and discontent, picking Jason up from camp Friday evening is another Whizzer-less occasion. At this point, he can’t tell if he’s become a pro at passively avoiding Whizzer or if Whizzer is actively avoiding him.

 

“Oh I almost forgot!” Jason pulls something out of his back pocket before hopping into the passenger seat. Marvin knows legally twelve year-olds aren’t permitted to ride in the front seat, but he lets it slide. Jason would put up a fight, otherwise, and Marvin was enjoying the overall civil week with his son.

 

"What's this?" Marvin asks as Jason hands him a paper. It’s full of empty lines requesting insurance information and emergency phone numbers.

 

"It's a chaperone form. We need more chaperones for beach day next week, and Whizzer wanted me to ask you to do it."

 

Marvin hates how his stomach twists with nervous excitement. "Oh he did, did he?" Whizzer asked specifically for Marvin. Whizzer _wanted_ him. It could just be another tease to rile Marvin up, but he can’t help but let himself fantasize..

 

“Yeah,” Jason says flatly. He closes the car door with a slam

 

As Marvin starts the car, the radio blares the latest song of the summer that seems to be on every time he turns it on. Jason’s eyes flicker from Marvin to the window and back to Marvin.

 

“Something on your mind, Kiddo?”

 

Jason sighs and doesn’t turn to look at his father. “I think Whizzer inviting you has something to do with you guys hating each other.”

 

That response is… unexpected. “Jeez, Jason, _hate_ is a strong word. Why would you think we hate each other?”

 

“Whenever you two talk, you’re always so rude.” Marvin opens his mouth to argue, but Jason shuts him down. “Both of you.”

 

“Sometimes, in life, you have to deal with people who you conflict with. It doesn’t mean I hate the guy; our personalities just don’t go well together.”

 

As soon as the words come out of his mouth, Marvin’s chest feels tight.

 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Jason says confidently.

 

“ _You_ were the one who accused us of hating each other. Why the change of heart?”

 

Jason shrugs. “I think that if you two _really_ knew each other, you would be friends. You and Whizzer have a lot more in common than you think.”

 

“Oh yeah, like what?”

 

“You both are bad at chess-”

 

“Hey!”

 

“You’re both kinda mean.” Jason counts on his fingers. “You both don’t know when to back down from an argument.”

 

Marvin rolls his eyes. Now Jason was just over-exaggerating.

 

Jason’s voice goes gravely quiet. “You’re both gay.”

 

Marvin steps on the brakes too hard, and the car jerks forward in front of a stop sign. He can barely hear the radio over the thrum of his heart in his ears. “J-Jason, you know it’s impolite to out someone-”

 

_Whizzer’s gay_. Marvin has a chance, after all. Not that he needs a chance, because he doesn’t like Whizzer or want anything to do with him. Especially nothing that would involve sleeping with him or kissing him or holding his hand. Nothing like that.

 

“Whizzer doesn’t care. He said-”

 

“Well _I_ do care, and his opinion doesn’t matter right now.” Marvin doesn’t mean to yell, he really doesn’t, but sometimes good intentions aren’t enough.

 

Jason makes a face that Marvin knows as the “my dad is wrong and I’m not going to listen to him” face.

 

“Telling other people he’s gay might not be a big deal for Whizzer, but it’s really important for others,” Marvin says sternly.

 

“You mean it’s important for _you_ ,” Jason mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Marvin doesn’t try to deny it: “Yeah, I do.”

 

His son seems unimpressed. They drive to Marvin’s apartment in silence, but he can’t let the topic go.

 

Marvin tries to explain in a quiet, controlled tone, “We don’t all have it so easy. I struggled a lot with my sexuality, and being blatantly exposed by someone else is an excruciating experience.”

 

Marvin parks and shifts so he’s facing Jason. He makes sure to scoot closer, so Jason can see that he is serious, even if his son is intentionally looking away. “Promise me you won’t out anyone else. You’ll let them come out to others on their own time.”

 

Jason’s bony pinky hesitantly wraps around Marvin’s, but Jason still refuses to meet his father’s steady gaze.

 

Marvin wordlessly helps Jason get his weekend backpack with the essential toiletries and whatnot into the apartment. When Jason runs off to his room, Marvin unfolds the paper in his pocket. At the top, it reads:

 

_BEACH DAY CHAPERONE VOLUNTEER FORM_

 

Biting his lip, Marvin signs his fate away for the second time this week- this time with the _click_ of a pen and a knot of dread in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bon jovi voice* we'rE HALFWAY THERE!!! 
> 
> I'm really grateful for the positive response I've gotten, and I'm looking forward to writing the upcoming chapters! As always, you can find me on tumblr @ livendiefortissimo. Thank you for all of your comments and kudos!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beach Day- in which Marvin is a drama queen who can't catch a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for patiently waiting for this chapter! It took a lot longer to write than I intended, but I compensated with the length of this update. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warning: Very brief mention of blood and description of a scrape. If you want to skip it, stop reading at "He's only a few yards away..." and pick up again at "Marvin's breath catches in his throat." (It's only a paragraph).

“Beach Day” arrives one week from the Friday Marvin received the blank chaperone form. The week was an uneventful one consisting of work, taking Jason to camp, and agonizing over Whizzer’s persistent refusal to add him on Facebook.

 

It had been a week and a half, and Whizzer still hasn’t accepted the friend request.

 

Marvin and Whizzer had minimal contact that week. Sometimes Whizzer would wave at Marvin from afar, sometimes they would chat as Marvin signed Jason in. Marvin makes sure these moments are as brief as possible. He struggles through keeping his cool every time Whizzer makes a snarky comment or tries to get a rise out of Marvin, but he’s managed pretty well so far.

 

But now, Marvin is sitting in the front of a bus, trying to ignore the dozens of annoying elementary schoolers behind him. He wishes he was on the bus with the older kids- they would have probably been less headache-inducingly loud- but Jason refused to let his dad even be seen with him.

 

“Don’t worry, Marvin. This is gonna be the hardest part of the day.”

 

Oh yeah, and he has to somehow put up with  _ Whizzer _ sitting next to him for the next forty minutes. Whizzer is wearing the pink counselor polo that somehow compliments his leaf-patterned board shorts. The sunglasses on his forehead are stylish and different from the ones in his Facebook profile image. Marvin can’t believe it’s gotten to the point where he can make that observation.

 

“I’m glad I’ll finally get to see those nanny skills to the test,” Whizzer teases. _ Of course _ he teases. Marvin doesn’t know why he expected anything else.

 

When Marvin doesn’t respond, Whizzer shoulders him in what is probably a playful manner, but the physical contact makes Marvin tense. Luckily, Whizzer doesn’t seem to notice the sudden rigidness in his shoulders.

 

Instead, Whizzer pouts like a kid who didn’t get a toy he wanted. “What’s with you? You’ve been acting super weird since we ran into each other the other week.”

 

“Well that’s blunt,” Marvin deflects. He doesn’t need to talk with Whizzer about his week, he has a psychiatrist for that. Besides, it’s not like Whizzer would genuinely care.

 

Whizzer furrows his eyebrows. “Did I say something to upset you, or something?”’

 

Marvin doesn’t respond, he doesn’t want to.

 

“Marvin, c’mon, you’re acting like a kid.” Whizzer gestures to the screaming elementary schoolers behind them. He obviously can’t tell how ironic his childish whine is. “Didn’t they teach you to lead by example in nanny school?”

 

“Why-” Marvin raises his tone. Several of the kids around them quiet down and Marvin can feel heat rise to his cheeks. Marvin’s not a quitter, so continues his statement, this time in a whispered tone. “Why are you so intent on being so buddy-buddy with me now, but you refuse to accept my friend request on Facebook?”

 

There’s a split second where Whizzer looks at Marvin like he’s insane. It makes Marvin wants to stop the bus and get out while he still has some dignity. An inhuman squawk bursts out of Whizzer. He holds his hand in front of his mouth to dampen the laughter that he’s trying to force down. 

 

“That’s what this has all been about?  _ Facebook _ ?” Whizzer asks through tears. He cackles, which draws the attention of some of the kids on board. “I thought you hated me because I unintentionally offended you or like, you were secretly a raging homophobe.”

 

“I’m not- no I just-” Marvin stammers. Did Whizzer just come out to him? Did that matter? Was that supposed to matter? “Answer my question first.”

 

“Marvin, it’s 2017. The only people who use Facebook are moms bragging about their children or quinoa recipes and politicians. I haven’t been on my account for  _ years _ .” 

 

“How was I supposed to know that?” Marvin’s voice nearly cracks, which does nothing to help him feel less embarrassed.

 

Whizzer just laughs again. “Give me your phone.”

 

“What?”

 

Whizzer holds out a hand and raises his eyebrows expectantly. Marvin complies with appropriate suspicion. Whizzer types something in, hiding the screen from Marvin, and then snaps a selfie of himself sticking out his tongue and flaring his nostrils.

 

The whole ordeal really  _ shouldn’t _ be as cute as it is. “Whizzer... what?”

 

“Shhh hold on, I’m trying to readjust this stupid little circle.”

 

When Marvin leans over, he can see that Whizzer is setting up a contact on his phone. 

 

If Marvin believed in fate, he would be convinced that fate had a personal agenda against him. Just as Marvin leans in, the bus takes a sharp turn and jostles him into Whizzer’s chest. Marvin wants to say that he doesn’t smell Whizzer’s cologne or accidentally brace himself against Whizzer’s muscular thigh, but that would be a blatant lie. Meanwhile, the campers scream with delight at the inertia.

 

“Here,” Whizzer says a little breathlessly. He hands Marvin his phone back once he’s managed to pull himself away from the poor guy. Marvin mentally curses his destiny despite not believing it. Apparently ignoring what just happened, Whizzer’s smile twists into a devilish smirk. “Now you can bother me if you’re feeling lonely instead of languishing while you had a pending friend request.”

 

“I was not _ languishing _ !” Marvin says indignantly, which makes Whizzer snicker again.

 

“So you’re not going to be grumpy for the rest of the day, right? ‘Cuz if anyone needs to have some fun, it's you.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It's like Whizzer has a personal agenda against him.

 

Whizzer shrugs noncommittally. The bus conveniently comes to a stop in front of a sign welcoming them to Rockaway Beach. “Looks like it’s go time.”

 

Marvin shoulders his backpack (full of a change of clothes, sunscreen, and a travel-sized first-aid kit) and shakily stands up with Whizzer.

 

The kids quiet down as Whizzer clears his throat. He reads off some safety instructions “-make sure to use the buddy system, tell a chaperone if you’re going to use the bathroom-” and clarifies the schedule “We meet at the picnic tables for lunch at 12:30, you’ll be able to go back into the ocean afterwards. We’ll start rounding you up at 4 so we can leave by 4:30.”

 

He starts losing their attention as soon as he mentions the ocean.

 

It’s hard not to admire the sparkle of fondness in Whizzer’s eyes. “Alright everyone, I want to see a good, single-file line as we head on out!”

 

They exit the bus and make their way down to the beach where they’re meeting up with the other bus. Whizzer tugs a cooler full of sandwiches that the older kids helped to make this morning at the front of the line. Marvin takes up the rear and makes sure the stragglers catch up this the rest of the group. From this vantage point, Marvin can see the tight fit of Whizzer’s shirt against his muscular back- which he focuses on so he doesn’t lose the group, of course. The descent to the picnic area is pretty painless, but as soon as the kids see the water, they’re off.

 

“Remember to not go past the lifeguard’s buoy or you won’t be going back into the water!” Whizzer calls out as children in bathing suits race past him. His warning falls upon deaf ears.

 

“I don’t have to actually go  _ into _ the ocean, right?” Marvin asks apprehensively. He watches the first kids to reach the shore shriek at the water’s temperature. He doesn’t envy their friends who follow suit and have similar responses.

 

“You don’t  _ have _ to, but that’s half the fun. Isn’t it?” Whizzer says from behind him. “Can you give me a hand?”

 

Marvin turns to see Whizzer’s arms twisted like pretzels trying to spread the sunscreen he’s put on his back. His shirt is neatly folded on the bench beside him. _Whizzer Brown isn’t wearing a shirt._ Needless to say, Marvin’s brain short-circuits.

 

“Please, Marvin. This is embarrassing,” Whizzer pleads with a straight face. Marvin gets his head back in gear and steps up to Whizzer’s back... his bare back- which was just as muscular as the fitted shirts suggested. 

 

_ This is pornographic _ , Marvin thinks to himself as he puts his hands on Whizzer.  _ So hot, yet so unattainable. _

 

It takes all of Marvin’s willpower to not physically drool as he massages the sunscreen into Whizzer’s skin. As Marvin’s hands trail lower down his spine, Whizzer jumps.

 

Marvin apologizes at the same time Whizzer clarifies his reaction with a muttered, “It’s cold.”

 

Embarrassed, Marvin finishes his task with a hastened pace and steps away from Whizzer, who offers an appreciative smile. It’s so much softer and kinder than his usual self-assured grin… Marvin tries to ignore the lightheaded feeling that smile gives him.

 

“Thanks, Marvin!” Whizzer exclaims as he rushes to catch up with the kids.

 

Even though Whizzer is out of earshot, Marvin still mumbles, “Yeah, no problem.”

 

Lorraine, on the other hand, is not out of earshot, and witnesses this entire exchange. She sidles up to Marvin, who stares out at the ocean. Definitely not at Whizzer running around in the water. Just... looking at the ocean. 

 

“What’cha thinking about?” Lorraine asks innocently. Despite her calm demeanor, Marvin feels like she’s interrogating him.

 

"I hate the ocean," he replies, deadpan.

 

Lorraine laughs politely, "Why are you here then?"

 

Marvin furrows his eyebrows. Why  _ was _ he here? He was here because Jason asked him. At least that's what he could tell himself. In actuality, Whizzer had requested his presence, but Marvin couldn't just tell Lorraine he was here for  _ Whizzer _ \- that would be admitting defeat.

 

"I got asked to," Marvin answers vaguely.

 

Lorraine’s expression remains placid, but there’s a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Oh really? I'm surprised they let you come last minute."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

Lorraine gestures to Whizzer, who is now closer. He and a couple of the older kids (including Jason much to Marvin’s surprise) are tossing a football around on the sand. Water droplets from the ocean make his body glow like he’s a swimsuit model or some sort of demigod. Lorraine has to lean forward to recapture Marvin’s attention. "Whizzer was telling me earlier last week that they were so lucky that they got so many parent volunteers."

 

"Huh."

 

"They even had to turn some away." Her voice drips with implication of… of something.

 

A kid misses catching the football, and it sails through the air to land at Marvin's feet. Whizzer motions for Marvin to return the ball to him. Even though he's wearing sunglasses, Marvin can tell his smile reaches his eyes.

 

Marvin complies by launching the ball with all of his strength in Whizzer's direction. It goes a pitiful distance, but Whizzer still throws up a thumbs up.

 

"How do you know Whizzer? You two seem close," Lorraine inquires, following Marvin’s gaze. Whizzer abandons the ball and runs back into the ocean. He reminds Marvin of an over-excited puppy.

 

Marvin makes a face. “Not really. We met a few weeks ago. He’s kind of an ass- sorry- a _ jerk _ . To me, at least.” Marvin can’t deny that there must be some genuine kindness under Whizzer’s hard shell. After all, he helped Marvin pick out clothes  _ and _ invited him to dinner...

 

“Diane would argue that’s part of the appeal,” Lorraine jokes.

 

Marvin snorts at her mockery and Lorraine doesn’t push any further. A pleasant silence fills in between them as they amiably watch the children at play and listen to the crash of the ocean waves.

 

Marvin manages to work up to courage to say what’s on his mind. “Hey Lorraine, you know last week how you said there was someone out there for me?”

 

She nods.

 

“How I am supposed know? If there’s someone who’s  _ the _ someone, I mean.” Marvin feels like a little kid asking his parents where babies come from.

 

She looks surprised. “Haven’t you ever been in love before?”

 

Lorraine saying it aloud makes the whole idea exponentially more tangible and terrifying. He loved lots of people, sure- his parents, Jason, even Trina to a certain extent. But had he actually been  _ in love _ ?

 

“No…” Marvin confesses. Whizzer’s laugh carries through the warm, beachy air. “I don’t know, maybe? I wouldn’t call it love, it’s a little too soon to say love.”

 

“Love happens fast; it doesn’t wait for anything,” Lorraine says casually, despite the weight behind her words.

 

_ It’s not love _ . “I hardly know him, though.”

 

“You’ll hardly know him if you keep dragging your feet.” Lorraine playfully punches Marvin’s shoulder. “Keep worrying about every little thing and your hair will be grey by tomorrow.”

 

“I feel like a hormonal teenager again,” Marvin admits, running a hand through his hair. “This whole ‘crush’ thing is so juvenile.” He pauses for a moment, processing what he said. He clarifies: “I don’t have a crush.”

 

Lorraine snorts, “Your words, not mine.”

 

As if on cue, a panicked scream comes from the shoreline. Marvin and Lorraine make worried eye contact before they both stand up. A group of concerned-looking kids is gathered around the water’s edge. Marvin scans the area for Whizzer, who should have been supervising, but he’s nowhere to be seen. A sick mixture of curiosity and trepidation draws Marvin to jog toward the crowd. He’s only a few yards away when the semicircle breaks and, to Marvin’s surprise, Whizzer emerges.

 

Whizzer’s face is twisted into a pained grimace that gets more pinched as he rises from his kneeling position. A mess of bleeding grazes decorate his right shoulder. Normally, Marvin would pass it off as just some scrapes, but Whizzer stumbles closer, Marvin can see there’s an inordinate amount of blood on his shoulder. The grazing is deep; beads of crimson contrast against the bits of sand and dirt still stuck onto his skin.

 

Marvin’s breath catches in his throat. “Oh my god, Whizzer-”

 

“It’s okay,” Whizzer winces. “I just wiped out when I was trying to body surf. I think the kids are more upset about it than I am.”

 

Marvin has an urge to wrap an arm around Whizzer and protect him. But Whizzer is an  _ adult _ who can handle himself, and that would be inappropriate. Still, Marvin walks him up to the picnic tables and shoos away the lingering kids who followed them.

 

“We can handle it from here, guys,” Marvin reassures a group of wide-eyed fourth graders. They get the memo and step back, but still look hesitant to leave.

 

Whizzer gestures with his good arm. “We’re using the buddy system. Marvin’s my buddy.” He glances at Marvin, who nods in agreement.  _ Lead by example _ .

 

This seems to be enough to put the children’s concerns at ease, and they say their goodbyes to Whizzer.

 

As soon as any kids are out of earshot, Marvin whispers to Whizzer: “How  _ the hell _ did you do this?”

 

Whizzer shrugs and realizes his mistake only when he’s clutching his shoulder in pain. “I told you, I wiped out.”

 

Marvin cocks an eyebrow in disbelief.

 

“I wiped out  _ really bad _ , okay? I’m sorry I’m not a body surfing champion.” Whizzer rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t even hurt that much- just stings like hell.”

 

Marvin is already taking the first-aid kit out of his bag. “C’mon, we’re going to the bathroom.”

 

“Marvin, really. I can do it myself-” Whizzer tries to grab the kit, but Marvin holds it away. It’s a childish move, but it proves a point.

 

“Nope. No buts. Let’s go.”

 

“Marvin-”

 

He gives Whizzer the most intimidating Dad Stare he can muster. It succeeds in both shutting Whizzer up and making him smile, so Marvin considers it a win even if it isn’t very intimidating.

 

Thankfully, the bathrooms aren’t a particularly long distance from the picnic tables and the walk to them is relatively painless (for Marvin, at least). As soon as they get in, Marvin pumps an obscene amount of paper towels out of the dispenser and wets some in the sink.

 

“Marvin, I’m not a kid. I can clean up my own cut,” Whizzer complains as Marvin approaches him, paper towels in hand.

 

Marvin gives him a look. “I didn’t realize you were that flexible.”

 

“I’m not but-”

 

Now it’s Marvin’s turn to smirk. “You and I both know you’re not going to win this battle.”

 

Whizzer, opens his mouth to respond, but closes it. Resigned, he turns so Marvin has access to his wounded shoulder.

 

He starts gentle, dragging the wet paper towel against Whizzer’s skin with caution. Its pleasantly thrilling how much control Marvin has. Whizzer complies with Marvin’s requests to tilt his head or raise his arm. He shivers at the paper towel on his skin and makes soft sounds whenever Marvin goes over a particularly sensitive wound. Marvin has to bite his lip to keep himself focused on the task at hand and not let his thoughts stray.

 

After Whizzer’s shoulder is clean, Marvin pulls a tube of disinfectant out of the first aid kit and squeezes some onto a clean paper towel. Whizzer gives Marvin a funny look that he struggles to interpret.

 

“What? Don’t you trust me?”

 

Whizzer scoffs. “Not exactly after seeing several examples of your inability to tie a simple tie.”

 

“I’m good with my hands,” Marvin mutters bitterly. He unceremoniously dabs the ointment on Whizzer’s shoulder, and immediately regrets it.

 

A soft moan escapes Whizzer’s lips. Marvin feels his blood leave his head and he nearly drops the paper towel.

 

“Sorry, it- ah- it stings,” Whizzer apologizes as Marvin brushes his shoulder a few final times.

 

“It’s okay,” Marvin mumbles, busying himself by grabbing the biggest band-aids he can find from the first-aid kit.

 

With expert precision, he places two at the top of Whizzer’s shoulder. Whizzer makes some more quiet noises that Marvin makes an effort not to pay attention to.

 

He tries to focus as he puts on the last bandaid, but he keeps getting distracted by Whizzer in his peripheral vision, staring at Marvin with his stupid pretty face. The bandaid doesn’t completely cover the grazes, but it does it’s job. Whizzer gives Marvin that soft smile that does funny things to his stomach. In response, Marvin turns away and begins packing up his first-aid kit. He has the creeping suspicion if Whizzer looks at him like that for much longer, he might do something stupid. Instead, he puts all of his attention into throwing away the band-aid wrappers and putting the disinfectant back into the box. 

 

He’s so intensely focused that he jumps when Whizzer squeezes his shoulder.

 

“Thanks, Marvin,” Whizzer practically purrs. His voice is so warm and deep, Marvin feels like he might melt into it.

 

He acknowledges the comment with a half-hearted hum as he shuts the first-aid kit.

 

“I’m serious.” Whizzer physically turns Marvin’s body around so they’re facing each other. He still has that goddamn tender expression on his face- Marvin can’t stand it.

 

Whizzer opens his mouth, probably to make fun of Marvin again. Marvin doesn’t find out because he’s too busy trying to get the rapid beat of his heart to slow down and for his thoughts to focus on something other than Whizzer’s still-perfect hair, and his well-built chest, and his sharp eyes, and his goddamn pretty pink lips and their gracious smile.

 

Marvin doesn’t find out what Whizzer is saying because Marvin boils over and finally does something stupid.

 

Just as Whizzer opens his mouth, Marvin pushes himself up on the balls of his feet and closes the gap between them. It’s too rushed to tell if Whizzer actually kisses back or if Marvin is imagining it. He realizes what he’s done a moment too late and quickly pushes Whizzer away with an unnecessary amount of force.

 

After Whizzer stumbles backwards, they can only stare at each other, wide-eyed in shock. Whizzer blinks and takes a few deep breaths, not breaking eye contact with Marvin, whose breathing is much more ragged. His heart still throbs at fortissimo in his ears.

 

Whizzer tries to say something again, but Marvin knows when he’s fucked up; he doesn’t want or need to hear any rejection from Whizzer to know that. So, Marvin grabs his first-aid kit and bolts out of the bathroom. Thankfully, Whizzer doesn’t follow him out.

 

Much to Marvin’s disappointment, Whizzer doesn’t follow him out.

 

He can’t figure out why he would even think Whizzer would chase after him like they were in some romantic drama movie. Their entire relationship was, despite Marvin’s efforts to ignore it, a one-sided fantasy. It was his fault for indulging in it, even when he knew Whizzer would never be interested.

 

“God, I’m pathetic,” he groans aloud, carding through his hair.

 

A wispy cloud slowly floats over the bright, summer sun. The beach is momentarily shaded. Marvin notes this as the weather agreeing with him.

 

When he trudges his way through the sand and back to the picnic tables, Marvin finds Lorraine picking up the remains of lunch with other parent chaperones and a smiling counselor. 

 

Marvin approaches with a wave. He gets straight to business: “Lorraine, can I switch buses with you for the return trip?”

 

“That’s fine with me,” Lorraine says, concerned frown betraying her cheerful tone. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, I just want to make sure Jason doesn’t get car sick,” Marvin lies. Lorraine obviously doesn’t buy it, but doesn’t argue. Marvin can’t even imagine how he would explain that he couldn’t go on a bus with Whizzer because he had just kissed the guy on a whim, and he wasn’t ready for the inevitable apologetic rejection. Because Whizzer is just a tease, and he isn’t interested in Marvin, and that conversation was going to be awful.

“That’s settled, then,” the nearby counselor says awkwardly. She looks uncomfortable as she takes off a plastic glove and extends a hand toward Marvin. “I’m Cordelia. I guess you’ll be riding home with me?”

 

Marvin gives her hand a weak shake. “Looks like it, yeah.”  _ Thank God _ . Marvin doesn’t want to see Whizzer for the rest of his life.

 

And while fate might not always be on Marvin’s side, he’s lucky enough to not have to talk to Whizzer for the rest of the afternoon. Marvin makes a conscious effort to turn his back or walk away when he so much as sees Whizzer. 

 

By the time the group is getting ready to leave, the horizon is tinged a pre-sunset orange. The light rippling across the water is a breathtaking sight, but the kids seem to be either too tired or too busy talking to themselves to notice.

 

There’s a brief moment when Marvin’s admiring the artistic view that he can feel someone looking at him. He turns toward the person watching. Much to Marvin’s surprise, it’s Whizzer. They make brief eye-contact; Whizzer’s expression is unreadable, but visibly unhappy. Confused, maybe? Marvin has never been the best at reading people.

 

But that’s it. Just eye contact, and they go their separate ways.

 

Marvin immediately hates the new bus. It’s older and more sensitive to the road, so every bump and pothole reverberates through Marvin’s skeleton. Jason looks mortified at the presence of his father and purposely ignores him the entire forty minute drive. The older kids are somehow worse than the younger ones; instead of telling kids to stop singing Disney songs, Marvin now has to ask kids to stop yelling profanities or to quit doing ridiculous dares. 

 

“They were worse on the way here,” Cordelia comments. “Some of them must be tuckered out.” She tries making conversation, but Marvin is drained from the day and just can’t muster the energy to keep up.

 

More importantly, he can’t stop thinking about Whizzer. The ghost of his lips are prominent in Marvin’s memory, and he has to rub at his mouth to make the tingling sensation go away.

 

He really kissed Whizzer-  _ he kissed Whizzer. _

 

Marvin closes his eyes and pretends that it’s Whizzer next to him instead of Cordelia. He pretends things are actually okay between them and maybe, just maybe, Whizzer kissed him back.

 

At this point, he knows he needs to stop fantasizing like this- it’s becoming unhealthy- but he’ll give himself one more night. One last night of dreaming couldn’t hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and likes are always appreciated!! You can always talk to me or send me an ask on tumblr @ livendiefortissimo <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason works it out.

To say Marvin is a mess that weekend is a bit of an understatement.

 

He often stammers and stumbles over his words when he talks to Jason, which is completely unlike his usual air of authority. In the morning, he burns his toast and forgets to put the orange juice back in the fridge. Throughout the day, Jason catches him constantly glancing at his phone, but never typing anything.

 

It's weird, and Jason doesn’t like it.

 

“You never told me hold you enjoyed the beach yesterday,” Jason mentions on Saturday afternoon. They’re on the living room couch. Jason is reading a book and Marvin is doing work on his laptop, but neither of them are fully invested in their respective tasks.

 

“It was fine,” Marvin says noncommittally. “There’s not really an opportunity to enjoy yourself when you’re responsible for making sure six to fourteen year-olds don’t drown.”

 

The answer is unsatisfactory. “Yeah but how did you like  _ the beach _ ?” he presses, glancing at his father from above his book.

 

Marvin stops typing and considers for a moment. His voice goes quiet and surprisingly genuine, “The view was nice.”

 

Still, Jason is unimpressed, and decides to regale Marvin with various anecdotes from the day. Marvin only half-listens, but he nods and asks questions at the right times, so Jason doesn’t mind much.

 

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Jason exclaims with a mischievous grin. “After Heather Levin’s swimsuit malfunction, we saw Whizzer totally eat shit trying to body surf.”

 

Marvin looks perturbed at this comment. “Jason, language,” he scolds, but Jason knows he won’t do anything about it. He pulls his phone off the coffee table and types something into it. Jason strains to look, but he can’t do so nonchalantly.

 

“Luckily you were there to help patch him up, right?” Jason suggests. He searches Marvin’s face for a response- a hint of anything that might reveal why he had been acting so weird.

 

“I guess,” Marvin shrugs. He puts his phone down and resumes his work. Although now he types a little more aggressively, and he worries his lip between his teeth.

 

“Does this have something to do with your weird feud with Whizzer?” Jason pesters.

 

“Jason, I’m trying to do my work,” Marvin raises his voice. He looks exasperated with Jason’s curiosities. 

 

Ah, Jason had hit a nerve. Interesting. “So this  _ is  _ about Whizzer.”

 

“I don’t care about him,” Marvin says curtly, but there’s something in his eyes that betrays his words.

 

“Then why are you acting like such a diva?”

 

Marvin shakes his head. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s adult stuff.”

 

Jason frowns. When he was younger, his mom always told him that whenever she and Dad yelled at each other, it was over “adult stuff.” When a shorter, more innocent Jason had got up in the wee hours of the morning for a glass of water and witnessed his father sneaking in, hair mussed and shirt only halfway buttoned up, Marvin had reassured him he was just out taking care of “adult stuff.” 

 

“Adult stuff” was never anything good.

 

“I’m not a kid anymore, Dad; I can take it,” Jason says firmly. As much as he hates “adult stuff,” Jason hates his dad’s recent weird moods more.

 

Marvin looks at Jason incredulously, but his expression is less upset than before. “Thanks, kiddo, but I don’t think I need-”

 

Jason puts his book down and scoots over to the other side of the couch to place a hand on Marvin’s shoulder. “ _ Dad _ , please.” His expression is gravely serious.

 

“ _ Jason _ , please,” Marvin responds. Jason’s gaze is persistent, and Marvin gives in with a grumbled, “I didn’t realize you were  _ Mendel  _ now.” He shuts his computer and pulls his legs up onto the couch.

 

“Who’s the one girl you always talk about?” Marvin asks, seemingly out of the blue. “Heather?”

 

Jason nods, unsure where this conversation is going, but intrigued.

 

Marvin pauses as he organizes his thoughts. He keeps fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “You have a crush on her, yeah? What does that feel like?”

 

Jason crosses his arms. “You’re deflecting-” he whines.

 

Marvin raises his hands in surrender. His honesty is unusual, and Jason realizes the gravity of the situation. “No I’m not. Please, Jason, just… explain it to me.”

 

It’s enough to make Jason reply honestly, even if the truth is more embarrassing than he’d like to admit. “Well… when I talk to her I feel like my brain stops working and I kinda just… wilt. She’s really pretty, too. Sometimes she puts her hair in these really nice braids, and I-” Jason tries to fight down his blush. “Uh.. yeah.”

 

Marvin hesitates and wrings his hands. “Am I too old to have a crush?”

 

Jason gives his dad a once over to confirm he’s being serious before snorting. “ _ Seriously _ ? You have a crush on someone? Dad that’s so  _ embarrassing _ , you’re like seventy years old.”

 

Marvin rolls his eyes. “I’m not-”

 

“I thought you said this was ‘adult stuff,’” Jason makes air quotes. “Seems like a pretty juvenile problem to me.”

 

Even though the answer is clear to Jason, Marvin is still confused. “Well? What should I do?”

 

“Have you tried telling him you like him?” 

 

Marvin looks like Jason just suggested that he should commit murder. “Of course not! Would  _ you _ ever tell Heather Levin you liked  _ her _ ?”

 

“No but that’s different!” Jason gripes. “I’m only in middle school. You’re old enough to know.”

 

“Know what?

 

Jason gestures in the air. “Y’know, like love, or whatever.”

 

Marvin furrows his eyebrows and slowly bobs his head, but he still looks lost. Geez, maybe Marvin  _ wasn’t  _ old enough after all.

 

“ _ So _ ,” Jason clasps his hands together. “You just have to tell Whizzer you’re into him, and then you can stop brooding every second of the day.”

 

“I’m not-! I don’t-!” Marvin stammers. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “I never said this was about Whizzer.”

 

Jason narrows his eyes. “Riiiiiight,” he smiles knowingly and opens up his book again. 

 

Marvin stares at wall looking like he’s about to faint.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Dad. I'm sure you can do it.”

 

Jason doesn’t know if he’s telling the truth, but he knows it’s what Marvin needs to hear.

 

* * *

Marvin is incredibly tense the entire car ride to camp on Monday.

 

“Dad, it’s not that big of a deal,” Jason reassures him from the passenger seat. Glancing at his dad, he can see that Marvin’s pupils are tiny as they frantically scan the road. 

 

“It kind of is, Jason.” Despite his obvious panic, Marvin’s voice remains level.

 

Not wanting to talk about it, Marvin cranks up the radio. He groans when the intro to the catchy pop tune that’s  _ always _ on the radio starts playing. Jason laughs at his father’s agony and hums along to the song all the way to the Jewish Center.

 

When they pull up, Jason is convinced his dad is going to have a heart attack, but he eggs him on anyways.

 

Marvin refuses to get out of his seat. “You can’t make me leave this car.”

 

“C’mon, Dad! You gotta sign me in!” Jason argues, pulling on his dad’s arm. Marvin only gives in when Jason points out that they’re making a scene and Whizzer could probably see them.

 

Even so, Jason has to practically haul Marvin up to the sign-in booth where Whizzer and Cordelia are both working.

 

“...you should take Friday off,” Cordelia is chatting with Whizzer as they approach. “You haven’t taken a single break this summer- you deserve it.”

 

Whizzer shrugs. He doesn’t have his usual peppy air about him. There are obvious bags under his eyes and his hair looks a little less pristine than normal. Nevertheless, he still beams when he sees Jason walking up.

 

“Hey, Jason!” Whizzer chirps. “Marvin.” He greets Jason’s dad with a cautious tone and doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

 

“Hi, Whizzer,” Marvin chokes out, eyes wide. The tension between the two of the them is tangible. Jason elbows his dad’s side, hoping it will nudge him in the right direction.

 

“Right… Whizzer I…”

 

It’s sad but kind of satisfying to see Marvin, usually so full of himself and put together, so broken up. Whizzer looks intrigued, but slightly concerned, which is understandable considering Marvin’s distressed, hysteric state. Jason shifts his weight to the balls of his feet and clenches his fists in anticipation. 

 

“Whizzer I need to...” Marvin licks his lips. Jason can’t believe- his dad was actually going to do it.

 

“I-I need to sign Jason in.”

 

Marvin gestures to the sign-in sheet. Whizzer had been leaning forward and covering it with his hand.

 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Whizzer’s tone is almost disappointed.

 

Jason restrains himself from vocalizing his own feelings of “ _ what the fuck was that? _ ” When Marvin glances down at him, Jason gives him a withering glare and shakes his head. Since Marvin isn’t able to do anything for himself, it looks like Jason is going to have to take matters into his own hands.

 

“Alright, Marvin: you’re good to go,” Whizzer says without his usual smile.

 

Marvin forces a weak, forlorn wave as he makes his exit.

 

As Jason is walking away with Whizzer, he is already plotting his next move.

* * *

 

"My dad said he had a really good time on Friday," Jason comments conversationally. He moves his pawn forward and looks up to see Whizzer fidgeting with one of his bishops. "Your move, Whizzer."

 

"Uh, yeah right." Whizzer analyzes the game board with a critical eye. Jason's played with him enough times to know that this is all an act- Whizzer wouldn't know strategy if it kissed him on the lips. "So, Marvin liked the beach?"

 

"Yeah. Kept going on about the view, although I didn't think it was that great." Furtively, Jason keeps an eye on Whizzer, calculating the best possible response to every reaction.

 

Jason nonchalantly points at one of Whizzer's pieces. Whizzer gets the hint and moves it forward.

 

"The view?" Whizzer chuckles secretively.

 

"What's so funny?"

 

"Oh, nothing,” Whizzer tries to disguise his grin. “I just don't think your dad was talking about the beach."

 

Jason hides his victorious smirk with feigned innocence. "What's the supposed to mean?"

 

"Aw c'mon Jason, it's a beach. You know what I'm talking about. The  _ view _ ." Whizzer crudely cups his hands in front of his chest.

 

Jason laughs. "Not my dad, he's not-"

 

He stops himself before he can finish carrying out his plan. Initially, Jason was going to reveal Marvin's sexuality, but the hurt on his dad's face when he had talked about Whizzer made him hesitate.

 

_ “Promise me you won’t out anyone else. You’ll let them come out to others on their own time.” _

 

Jason closes his mouth and takes one of Whizzer's pawns. "Your turn."

 

Whizzer gives Jason a strange look, but moves a piece forward without comment. Jason is thankful Whizzer knows when not to push.

 

They continue to play in relative silence. Whizzer is oddly thoughtful about his moves, and even takes both of Jason's bishops. Admittedly, Jason isn't paying much attention to the game; he's too busy trying to ignore the guilt clawing at his stomach.

 

When Whizzer's pieces are the majority on the board, his eyes begins to glint with suspicion.

 

"Are you letting me win, or is there something up?" Whizzer asks, trying to get Jason to look at him.

 

Jason glances up, but his stomach rolls with guilt and he diverts his gaze to the table.

 

"Whizzer, do you hate my dad?" It’s an honest question- Jason can’t tell anymore, and he doesn’t want to keep trying to give Whizzer hints if he and Marvin just don’t get along.

 

The expression Whizzer makes is a weird combination of shocked and amused. He’s obviously fighting a smile and his eyebrows are high on his forehead.

 

"What makes you think that?"

 

The illegitimate answer reminds Jason of Marvin.

 

"I-I don't know. You guys seem to fight a lot."

 

"We  _ disagree _ about a lot of things," Whizzer clarifies. His snarkiness softens at Jason's wide-eyed panic. "I don't hate him, though, far from it."

 

_ Far from it _ . Jason lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

 

Whizzer is still curious. "Why do you care about what I think about your dad?"

 

"He talks about you," Jason deflects. "Like, even before Friday."

 

Whizzer is definitely interested at the mention of this. He leans forward. "What does he say?"

 

Jason bites the inside of his cheek. "I don't know. That you're fun."

 

"Marvin thinks I'm  _ fun _ ," Whizzer snorts, more to himself than Jason. 

 

Jason feels that he's given Whizzer enough hints for today. He had completed his job, now it was on either Marvin or Whizzer to make the next move.

 

Jason intentionally exposes his king. "Your turn."

 

"Hah, checkmate!" Whizzer exclaims as he slams down his winning piece. "Whizzer wins!"

 

Hopefully it would be that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for leaving kudos and commenting as always! If you have any suggestions for future fics send me an ask/message me @ livendiefortissimo on tumblr


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marvin almost has a heart attack about 13 times.

Marvin’s stomach is in knots as he leans against his countertop and resists the urge to rip his hair out. He puts the bottom of his phone closer to his mouth as if it’ll make him more convincing.

 

“Trina,  _ please _ , can’t you just do this one thing for me?”

 

Trina huffs on the other end of the line, “You were the one who was so insistent on taking Jason in the first place.”

 

“I know, I know, I just- something came up. Wednesday isn’t going to work for me,” Marvin tries. He knows his excuses are weak, but he couldn’t exactly tell his ex-wife that he was avoiding Jason’s camp counselor who he had _ kissed _ . Marvin especially couldn’t talk to Whizzer after the mess that was dropping Jason off yesterday. It was so obvious that Whizzer knew something was up- no doubt he would try to confront Marvin.

 

“Fine,” Trina concedes. “Fine; I’ll take Jason on Wednesday, but you have to take him on Friday.”

 

It’s not a lot, but maybe three days would be enough for Marvin to forget… or Jason to forget… or Whizzer to forget.

 

“Thank you, Trina.”

 

She acknowledges him with a hum and hangs up with a curt good-bye.

 

Marvin shakily exhales and runs his hands through his hair. Maybe he would move halfway across the world and become a nun to escape all of his stupid mistakes…

 

An erratic buzz from Marvin’s phone on the counter interrupts his thoughts.

 

Marvin heart stops for a second, thinking it might be Whizzer. He had been doing this to himself since Friday. Every time his phone rang or got a notification, Marvin wanted to think it was Whizzer chasing after him, wanting him.

 

Instead, it was a co-worker asking if Marvin could email him some documents.

 

Even though this has happened every time, Marvin is still disappointed.

* * *

 

Wednesday morning, Marvin sleeps in. He tries to resist checking his phone every so often to see if there’s anything from Whizzer, but the temptation is overwhelming. Some of his co-workers pick up on it and start actively avoiding him. At one point, he overhears one of them whispering to the other: “Marvin’s in one of his  _ moods _ again.”

 

And maybe he was! What did it matter? It wasn’t like Marvin cared- he didn’t need anyone’s approval.

Marvin flips his phone up from where he had put it face down on his desk. Nothing from Whizzer.

 

(Not that he cares)

 

Marvin leaves work early that day, unable to focus on anything.

 

He doesn’t get much sleep Thursday night. He’s too afraid that if he closes his eyes, his subconscious will haunt him with visions of Whizzer’s toothy, teasing grin or his bare chest. Or the brush of his lips against Marvin’s. The night is spent tossing and turning and feeling the grip of dread tighten every time he glances at the clock.

 

Friday morning comes too soon. 

 

When Marvin picks him up in the morning, Jason is brooding and disinterested in conversation. Marvin doesn’t mind- after all, they’d probably end up talking about  _ Whizzer _ , who Marvin is trying desperately to not think about.

 

In the parking lot, Jason is reluctant to hop out of the car. His morbid attitude reminds Marvin of how he acted just a few weeks ago when he had first met Whizzer.

 

“What if we just ditched?” Jason suggests, one leg still in the car like he’s holding out to jump back in at the soonest possible moment. “You don’t have work today.”

 

Marvin crosses his arms and uses his Authoritative Adult tone. “ _ Jason _ , c’mon. You don’t want to be the Late Kid, do you?”

 

Jason groans dramatically, pulls his leg out of the car, and trudges towards Marvin. The other parents seem particularly energetic this morning, almost as if to spite Marvin. He scans the crowd for Whizzer, but does not see head or tails of him.

 

Lorraine waves at him from across the groups of idle parents, but they’re unable to talk because Jason pushes him forward towards the sign-in table..

 

“Aw, why the long face Jason?” Cordelia asks when he and Marvin get to the front of her line.

 

The kid shrugs and looks away. “Today’s probably gonna be boring.”

 

Cordelia smiles sympathetically. “How do you know? It’s only the morning.” Marvin thinks her positivity might be brighter than her counselor polo.

 

“I guess.”

 

Marvin helplessly looks at Cordelia, who just maintains her sympathetic expression. He quickly signs Jason in and leaves him with a half-hearted hug. The whole ordeal is forced and appears to be almost painful for Jason. Marvin tries to find Lorraine afterwards, but, much to his disappointment, she seems to have already left.

 

Marvin walks back to his car, chest oddly light. That… wasn’t as bad as he imagined. It was probably just sheer luck that he hadn’t run into Whizzer, but Marvin couldn’t complain.

 

As he gets closer to his car, Marvin notices that there is someone using his sideview mirror to fix their hair. At first, it’s funny and Marvin chuckles under his breath at the unusual sight. However, as he gets closer, Marvin’s laugh stops short and the comedy is immediately taken out of the situation.

 

Marvin’s voice is deadpan and louder than he intends, “Whizzer.” The man by Marvin’s car jumps and looks up almost sheepishly.

 

“Oh, hey Marvin! Is this your car?” Whizzer asks, sounding very practiced. It’s all an act; Marvin knows that Whizzer knows that this is most definitely his car.

 

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Marvin winces at how aggressive he sounds. As much as he doesn’t want to be talking with Whizzer, he’s also genuinely curious.

 

The timid smile on Whizzer’s face widens and becomes more confident. “I’m taking the day off. I just had to make sure things were in order before I took off.”

 

They stare at each other, stuck in a conversational stalemate.

 

“Well, I’ll see you around then,” Marvin says half-heartedly, making a move to open his car door.

 

Whizzer has the upper hand and blocks him. “ _ Gotocoffeewithme _ ?” He speaks too fast for Marvin to actually comprehend it.

 

“What?”

 

“Will you-” Whizzer points to Marvin- “go with me-” Whizzer gestures back to himself- “to get coffee?”

 

Marvin furrows his eyebrows. “Now?” What could Whizzer possibly want with Marvin this moment? Hadn’t he already tortured him enough?

 

“Uh, yeah?”

 

“I can’t- I can’t just ‘ _ go _ ’ and ‘ _ get coffee with you _ ,’” Marvin stutters, emphasizing his words with unnecessary air quotes. “I have a job you know.”

 

The complacent expression that Marvin is too familiar with returns to Whizzer’s face. “Oh really? Jason was telling me yesterday that you don’t work on Fridays.”

 

Marvin cannot believe that Jason- his own flesh and blood- would betray him  _ again _ . They would be having words when Marvin picked him up that afternoon.

 

“So…” Whizzer raises his eyebrows expectantly. “You’ll take me out to coffee?”

 

“No,” Marvin refuses. It would just lead to more want and more disappointment. Marvin’s had enough of both of those to last a lifetime.

 

But Whizzer has more tricks up his sleeve. The teasing air vanishes, and suddenly Whizzer puts a hand on Marvin’s shoulder. The softness in his eyes betrays his serious fa ç ade.

 

The hand on Marvin’s shoulder feels like it weighs a ton.

 

“Please, Marvin, for me?” Whizzer gently squeezes his shoulder. The look in his eyes is pleading and, decidedly, Marvin’s ultimate weakness. Because Marvin could never say no to someone who looked at him like  _ that _ \- like he had all the answers, the solution to every problem.

 

“Get in the car,” Marvin commands as he shrugs off Whizzer’s hand. “And I  _ refuse _ to go to Starbucks.”

 

The car ride is unbearably silent. Marvin resists any attempts at conversation, too fearful that if Whizzer says the wrong thing then Marvin will say something stupid, like admitting his “crush” or  _ whatever _ . This doesn’t stop Whizzer from trying, though. 

 

“How’d you sleep last night?”

 

_ Terrible _ , Marvin thinks, but he doesn’t even acknowledge Whizzer.

 

Whizzer notices, but continues talking anyways, “I’ve been sleeping pretty well- the kids work me so hard, I come home exhausted-”

 

His persistence is obnoxious and admittedly endearing.

 

When they arrive at the nearby local coffee chain, Whizzer rattles off an insanely complicated order, while Marvin sticks with a simple black coffee.

 

“You’re gonna give the workers an ulcer with that order,” Marvin comments as they sit down to wait for their drinks.

 

Whizzer rolls his eyes. “I’m sure they’ve had worse.”

 

And the conversation just dies. Marvin can feel part of himself pulling at his chest and pushing to just  _ talk _ and say something to make the silence between them go away. He opens his mouth and catches Whizzer glancing over. Marvin’s other half, the logical side, pulls the reins, and he disguises his failed attempt with a fake cough.

 

_ Pathetic _ .

 

Whizzer looks like he’s about to say something as well, but the barista calls out their orders. Marvin hurriedly gets up and grabs both of them. He tries to ignore the sensation of their hands brushing against each other as he hands the cup off to Whizzer.

 

He follows Whizzer outside, where the late morning sun is peeking out between two large clouds.

 

“Nice weather,” Marvin mumbles as he overtakes Whizzer. He expects Whizzer to say something back, but the other man is silent.

 

Marvin doesn’t notice right away that Whizzer has stopped walking, and continues ahead a few paces before realizing that Whizzer’s no longer following him.

 

“What’s wrong?” When Marvin turns around, Whizzer is biting his lip and holding his coffee cup a little too tightly.

 

“Look, Marvin, I can’t do this anymore.”

 

Neither of them moves, but Marvin can feel something hard and heavy hit his chest. If Marvin had his eyes closed, he could have guessed Whizzer punched him, but Marvin’s eyes are wide open, and he can see that Whizzer is standing several feet away from him.

 

Even though he claimed to get sleep, Whizzer’s shoulders still sag and the dark circles around his eyes are clearly defined. Marvin can’t help but thinking he still looks beautiful.

 

“I can’t do this whole thing,” Whizzer sounds exasperated. “ _ Us _ \- whatever it is- I don’t play games like this.”

 

Marvin’s breath is still knocked out of him. He can hardly inhale and exhale properly nevertheless talk.

 

“Marvin. Please say something?” Whizzer begs, stepping forward to lessen the gap between them.

 

Marvin doesn’t know what he would say even if he could. He desperately wants to kiss Whizzer. Whizzer, who obviously is disinterested in Marvin and his “games,’ whatever that’s supposed to mean.

 

“No,” Marvin forces out. It’s quiet and demanding. Just this once, Marvin is okay with acknowledging his greed.

 

“No?”

 

“No- no, it’s not a game,” Marvin stammers. “You’re so much more than a game to me.”

 

Whizzer points to himself and raises his eyebrows, as if to ask “ _ Me _ ?”

 

It’s really frustrating how easily Whizzer makes Marvin start acting stupid.

 

“God, I  _ really like  _ you Whizzer!” Marvin practically shouts in all of his excitement, and once he gets started, he can’t stop. Words spew out in disconnected thoughts all at once: “I think you’re really hot, and I stalked you on Facebook, I have dreams about kissing you, I have dreams about you kissing me. You’re snarky but not too much, and you’re good around kids, and charismatic, but you know when to be serious. And it's so hard because I don’t know how to tell you that without being repulsive or scaring you.”

 

The fire hose of confession is too gut-wrenchingly familiar. Even though they’re outside, Marvin feels just as cramped as he did in the bathroom at the beach.

 

Whizzer is a deer caught in the headlights. He stares at Marvin in absolute shock, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly.

 

“And you can’t put up with me, so I’m just gonna go,” Marvin adds as a white-flag of sorts. He turns on his heels and begins to trudge away. Despite being red-faced with embarrassment and shaking from rejection, Marvin’s shoulders feel lighter and his thoughts are a little less muddled than before.

 

“No!” Whizzer cries out. It’s urgent and commanding and it sounds nothing like Whizzer. Marvin can hear the thud of sneakers against the concrete behind him. Suddenly, Marvin is whipped around as Whizzer pulls him by the arm. “No,” Whizzer repeats, panting into Marvin’s face. Their noses are practically touching. Whizzer’s hands hold Marvin tight by his shoulders.

 

“No?” Marvin asks, breathless as well, even though he wasn’t the one to do any running. From this distance, he can count each of Whizzer’s perfectly curled eyelashes and make out every crinkle and crease of his skin.

 

Whizzer, realizing how close he is, roughly releases Marvin’s arm and slightly pushes him away.

 

“That kiss in the bathroom,” Whizzer licks his lips. “Was that for real? Or just some reckless stunt?”

 

Marvin nods, eye trained on Whizzer’s lips. “A little bit of both,” Marvin admits. “Reckless, yes, but it wasn’t a joke or a game or anything like that.  It was real for me.”

 

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he grabs Whizzer’s. Whizzer stares at them for a moment before looking back up at Marvin.

 

“You have a really twisted sense of what flirting is,” Whizzer shakes his head. There is a hint of a smile in his eyes. Even though it isn’t that funny, Marvin explodes into relieved laughter because  _ Whizzer isn’t pulling away. _

 

In fact, he does quite the opposite. Whizzer pulls a giggling Marvin into his chest and runs a hand through his curly hair. Whenever Trina played with his hair, Marvin always found it annoying- an invasion of his personal space. But when Whizzer does it, it feels natural and soothing.

 

Marvin sighs once his laughter dies down, “Can I kiss you?” His words sound more desperate than he intended. 

 

He looks up at Whizzer, whose eyelids fall to half their height in what Marvin guesses is supposed to be a seductive manner. “Oh _ sweetheart _ -” he pauses to bring Marvin’s hand up to his lips “-you can do much more than that.”

 

“There’s no one at my apartment right now,” Marvin jokes. He doesn’t mention how the feel of Whizzer’s slightly chapped lips on his knuckles sends lightning bolts up his arm.

 

“What are we waiting around here for then?” Whizzer, asks, pushing Marvin towards the car.

 

Marvin puts his hands up in surrender and laughs, “I was joking-”

 

“Marvin.” Whizzer stops and looks Marvin in the eyes. It’s comically serious. “You can’t just joke about sex.”

 

Marvin’s mouth gapes open like a fish. All coherency completely leaves his brain. “Y-you’re serious? About the whole… sex thing?” He’s not complaining, but going from a peck on the lips in a bathroom to PDA near a parking lot to spontaneous sex in Marvin’s apartment is a pretty big jump.

 

“Uh, yeah, I think ‘the whole sex thing’ is a part of dating,” Whizzer says casually. He takes one on Marvin’s hands in his. Marvin thinks he might faint from the amount of pleasant surprises he’s been subject to in the last hour.

 

“Dating?” Marvin squeezes Whizzer’s hand.

 

Whizzer squeezes back, teasing attitude replaced with a concerned one. A  _ genuine _ one. “Is that okay?”

 

Marvin nods emphatically as Whizzer wraps his arms around Marvin’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

* * *

And so, Marvin finds himself back at his apartment, half-naked, and in bed with  _ Whizzer Brown _ . He learns that Whizzer is fucking fantastic kisser and that his taste for style isn’t limited to clothing (“Really, Marvin? Paintings of  _ flowers  _ in the bathroom? Could you be more unoriginal?”). When Whizzer pins him against the doorway, or kisses him in the kitchen, or when he leads Whizzer to his bedroom, Marvin realizes that something about it all just feels right. Like there’s been a part of his home- a part of his life- that he’s been missing, and Whizzer fits right into place.

 

“Is this-? Are we going too fast?” Marvin asks as Whizzer kisses his collarbone.

 

“I like fast,” Whizzer mumbles into Marvin’s skin in between kisses. “I can stop if you want.” He says it half-heartedly, like he doesn’t want to stop. The thought of that gives Marvin goosebumps.

 

Whizzer shifts his weight and glides a hand over Marvin’s ribcage, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

 

“No, this is fine.” Even so, Whizzer looks up at Marvin for confirmation. “This is okay,” Marvin reassures him, cupping Whizzer’s cheeks.

 

“We’ll take it easy,” Whizzer says as he pulls himself up to kiss Marvin on the lips. He pauses, studying Marvin’s face.

 

“What?”

 

Whizzer shakes his head. “Oh nothing- it’s stupid.” He tries to move on by kissing Marvin again, but Marvin pulls away.

 

“What is it?” Marvin asks, serious this time. He runs a hand through Whizzer’s hair and is delighted when Whizzer leans into the touch.

 

“It’s just… Lorraine was right about you,” Whizzer shrugs, trying to play it off as nonchalant. “You’re special.”

 

“You talked to Lorraine about me?” Marvin is mortified.  _ Lorraine knew this entire time _ .

 

Whizzer’s cheeks tinge pink with embarrassment. “Never by name, but yeah.”

 

Marvin lets out a full-bellied laugh that causes Whizzer to shift his position on top of him.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

Marvin can hardly get his words out through his laughter. “I talked to her about you!”

 

“Oh my God…” Whizzer purses his lips in attempt to contain his laugh. “That’s… wow.”

 

Her cryptic advice finally made sense. She must have picked up on Marvin’s attitude towards Whizzer and if Whizzer had told her he was interested in someone; it wouldn’t be hard to put two and two together.

 

“We need to get her a box of chocolates or something,” Marvin chuckles, still in slight disbelief.

 

“ _ Later _ , though.” Whizzer looks at him like he’s the funniest man alive and resumes nosing his way along Marvin’s neck.

 

And Marvin decides in that moment that he doesn’t hate attractive summer camp counselors so much after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: Thank you for every read, comment, and kudo! They mean the world to me. If you want to anonymously bully me or give me your input, hmu @ livendiefortissimo on tumblr.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin doesn't know what he did to deserve _this._

The shrill chime of Marvin’s ringtone and the jarring sound of vibration against the wooden bedside table rudely shakes Marvin from his sleep. God, who was calling him at a time like this? He ignores it and snuggles closer into the warmth next to him...

 

Oh, yeah. Whizzer was here. Marvin suddenly becomes alarmingly aware of his hands where they’re resting on Whizzer’s hips and his feet where they brush against Whizzer’s under the sheets. It doesn’t feel real. Whizzer Brown, here in Marvin’s bed. Reluctantly, Marvin opens his eyes: he needs to confirm that this isn’t all some twisted fantasy his mind had dreamt up. That he wasn’t actually alone in an empty bed, desperately dreaming that _Jason’s camp counselor,_ of all people, was there with him.

 

And, by some miracle, it isn’t a dream. Sure enough, Whizzer is lying across from him, also stirring from his sleep. Marvin heart stutters at the way Whizzer’s cheek presses against the white bed-sheet and his mouth slightly hangs open in his sleep. Marvin can’t resist brushing some stray hair out of Whizzer’s face.

 

Whizzer’s eyelids flutter open at the gesture. He looks disoriented for a moment, and Marvin fears that he’s done something wrong, but the confused expression quickly softens and is replaced by a relaxed smile.

 

“Hi.”

 

Marvin returns the smile and runs a hand down Whizzer’s back. “Hi.”

 

Without warning, Whizzer chastely brushes his lips against Marvin’s. Giddy tingles spark from Marvin’s lips down to his toes.

 

“What was that for?” Marvin asks, grinning like an idiot. There were very few kisses that made him feel like _this_ \- like he didn’t deserve them.

 

Whizzer sits up. “I just wanted to,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. He runs a hand through his hair and gives Marvin a look that he can’t quite read.

 

Marvin opens his mouth to reply, but his phone goes off again. This time, he’s lucid enough to recognize the distinct ringtone as the one he assigned to Jason.

 

“ _Fuck,_ ” he says under his breath as he picks up the phone. Whizzer idly begins playing with the hand that Marvin isn’t using to hold the phone to his ear.

 

Jason’s distressed voice filters in, “ _Dad where are you?_ You were supposed to pick me up fifteen minutes ago! ” Usually the kid’s prepubescent voice cracks would be funny, but they only cause Marvin to feel even worse.

 

A quick glance at the clock tells Marvin that it’s 5:16. In all of his giddy stupor, he had thought it was the morning. He shares a guilty look with Whizzer, who, despite his expression, doesn't _really_ seem that remorseful.

 

“I know, Jason, I know-” Marvin mumbles into the phone, already peeling himself away from Whizzer. “I just lost track of the time. I’m on my way. Love you!”

 

Marvin hangs up before Jason can chastise him any more. With purpose, he jumps out of bed and hurriedly grabs his shirt from earlier. After a brief examination, he concludes that it’s too wrinkled- he may lack a sense of fashion, but he at least knows when a shirt screams “I just had sex.”  Marvin moves on to grab a casual tee and pants out of his closet. “Put some clothes on- we need to go,” Marvin instructs as he throws a worn floral-print shirt at Whizzer.

 

“I am _not_ wearing this,” Whizzer scoffs from where he still sits on the bed.

 

Marvin turns around and groans. “Just put on some goddamn clothes.”

 

“What? You don’t like seeing me naked?” Whizzer asks, a playful smirk teasing at his lips. He strikes a pose which is _ridiculous_ and _shouldn’t look that good_ , but there are more pressing matters.

 

Marvin pauses for a moment in pretend consideration, to which Whizzer throws a pillow at him. Marvin picks up Whizzer’s shirt from the ground and dramatically presents it to him. “Will this suffice, oh fashionable one?”

 

Whizzer plays along and purses his lips in mock dissatisfaction: “I suppose. I might need your help taking it off later, though.”

 

This makes Marvin laugh, and they both resume getting dressed- Marvin into a new shirt and pants and Whizzer into his slightly rumpled shorts and polo. They rush out of the apartment complex and into Marvin’s car. He sends an “on my way” text to Jason before motoring down the street.

 

There’s a silence in the car as Marvin stays focused on navigating his way to the Jewish Center.

 

“So, you've had an eventful day,” Whizzer jokes from the passenger seat. His fingers drum against the dashboard. There’s something in his attitude that’s more reserved than what Marvin’s seen before.

 

“What do you mean? This is a normal Friday for me,” Marvin says sarcastically as the GPS on his phone tells him to make a right. It’s an attempt to lighten the weird mood, but it’s horribly ineffective.

 

A growl rips from Whizzer’s stomach. It only now dawns upon Marvin that they skipped lunch.

 

“Do you wanna come to dinner with me and Jason?”

 

Whizzer looks out the window, but Marvin still catches his sentimental smile in his peripheral vision.

 

“We’re doing this whole thing kinda backwards aren’t we?”

 

Marvin shrugs, “You’re the one who said you liked to go fast.” They roll to a stop at a red light and Marvin can get a better look at Whizzer. He looks… hesitant, unsure. Marvin’s stomach drops. Had he done something wrong?

 

“Green light,” Whizzer prompts curtly. It’s unnerving.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I’m not complaining,” Whizzer clarifies, voice tight. “About this- us- going backwards- I’ve done that before. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s different.” Whizzer’s voice drops to a level that Marvin has to strain to hear. “You’re different.”

 

Marvin doesn’t quite know what that means, but he thinks it's a good thing.

 

(He hopes it’s a good thing.)

 

They pull up to the nearly empty parking lot. Marvin does a sloppy job parking, but there isn’t anyone around to complain. Before they leave the car, Marvin gently places a hand on Whizzer’s shoulder and tries to express everything he feels in a look. There are just too many things he wants to say and he doesn’t have enough words to even start.

 

Whizzer seems to get it and kisses Marvin's cheek before he gets out of the car. Marvin hesitates for a minute, but pulls out of the car reinvigorated. He sets off for Jason with a quick step and Whizzer has to trot to keep up. They find a miserable looking Jason sitting at the bench, accompanied by Cordelia.

 

“There he is!” Cordelia’s chipper voice calls out. She jostles Jason with one hand and begins to wave at Marvin with the other, but stops halfway through the motion. “Hi, Whizzer? It’s a surprise seeing you here on your day off.”

 

Whizzer waves uncomfortably and Marvin realizes just how awkward this situation is for him with his obviously bruised lips and sex-rumpled hair.

 

He’s suddenly desperate to leave- if only life had a reverse button. “Sorry I’m so late, Jason,” Marvin apologizes, but he doesn’t provide any explanation. Judging from how her eyes widen and cheeks flush, Cordelia quickly works it out.

 

Jason’s narrowed eyes glance back and forth between Marvin and Whizzer, but he doesn't seem to get it. Wordlessly, he bites his lip and walks towards the parking lot. Whizzer says a few words to Cordelia and Marvin huffs out a grateful apology before the pair follows after Jason.

 

“Do you want pizza for dinner?” Marvin asks his son; it’s paralyzingly formal.

 

“Sure,” Jason sighs, dragging his feet against the pavement. “Is Whizzer coming too?”

 

“If he wants to.” Marvin discreetly brushes his hands against Whizzer’s. _He_ definitely wants Whizzer to come. There’s still so much they need to talk about.

 

Much to Marvin’s surprise, Whizzer nudges Jason. “Is that okay with you?

 

“Yeah. More than okay.” Jason nods emphatically.

 

“Then I’ll come along.” Whizzer ruffles Jason’s hair, which makes Marvin nearly drop the keys he fished out of his pocket. “I call shotgun, though,” Whizzer announces, starting a race between him and Jason to the front seat of Marvin’s van.

 

Whizzer beats Jason and claims his prize by fiddling with the radio as soon as Marvin starts the car. He grins when he finds the channel he wanted. “This song’s the best!”

 

It only takes a second for Marvin to realize that it is _the_ pop song that has been haunting him all summer. He grimaces and tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

 

“What, Marvin, you don’t like this song?” Whizzer elbows him as he puts the car in reverse.

 

“Dad _hates_ pop music- this song especially,” Jason answers from the backseat.

 

“It’s overplayed,” Marvin argues.

 

“Yeah, ‘cuz it’s _good_.” Whizzer cranks up the volume and begins to sing along. Jason joins in at the chorus. Any negative thoughts that had been plaguing Marvin are drowned out by Whizzer and Jason’s off-key belting and Marvin’s own laughter. However, it doesn’t last long: the magic dies as soon as the song is over, and Jason’s eerie, hard-to-read expression resumes.

 

They get out of the car at a local pizza place that Marvin knows is Jason’s favorite. The joint is small and, at this hour, so crowded that the line goes out the door. Marvin doesn’t mind waiting if it would get Jason to stop staring at him like he’s growing a second head.

 

Whizzer must be able sense Marvin’s anxiety, and rubs an inconspicuous, comforting circle into his lower back. For the hundredth time that day, Marvin wonders what he did to deserve _this_. What did he do to deserve Whizzer? Whizzer who was attractive and funny, and who Marvin clicked with so easily despite their initial differences.

 

“Oh my god,” Jason whispers, clapping a hand over his mouth. Marvin’s stomach drops to his knees as Whizzer’s hand recoils like it had just been bit. “ _Oh my god!_ ” Jason repeats, much louder this time. The young mother in front of them gives Marvin a dirty, disapproving look.

 

“Jason, please settle down-”

 

However, Jason does the complete opposite. His eyes shine with excitement in the gleam of the streetlights and he points an accusatory finger at his dad and Whizzer. “You two were on a date weren’t you? That’s why you were so late to pick me up!”

 

Whizzer hides his choked laughter with a fake cough and has to bite his lip to silence himself. Marvin can only stare at his son slack-jawed and think _Lord, please preserve his innocence_.

 

Jason looks contemplative before asking: "Are you guys like, _boyfriends_ now?"

 

Marvin glances at Whizzer, his hair is mussed and fresh bruises peeking out from underneath his shirt collar. Whizzer looks back at Marvin and a breathy chuckle escapes his mouth. Marvin wants to make him laugh like that more.

 

"Yeah, boyfriends," Marvin confirms.

 

Jason puts a celebratory fist up in the air. "Thank God," he groans in relief. "The pining was driving me insane."

 

Now that the secret was out, Whizzer unabashedly tugs Marvin by the waist and kisses his cheek. "Aw you pined for me? That's so cute."

 

Jason’s whined protests of the PDA are promptly ignored.

 

"I'm pretty sure Jason was referring to _you_ pining for _me_."

 

Marvin kisses Whizzer’s idiotic grin. Marvin would happily suffer through all the handsome smirks, fashion-related assaults in department stores, bus rides full of screaming children, and hours of the same goddamn pop song on repeat for kisses like this. Marvin kisses Whizzer, and it's warm and exciting and _so much better_ than Marvin could have ever imagined

 

And, best of all, it tastes like summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...aaand that's a wrap folks!!! Thank you for the continuous support, comments, and kudos!!! 
> 
> I've got a few longer plots in the works at the moment but, while those are stewing, you can read my other fics here on ao3, or visit me on tumblr at livendiefortissimo. (feel free to drop some requests or headcanons in my askbox!)
> 
> I would have never had the inspiration to actually write this if it wasn't for you guys, so thanks for always being awesome and pushing me to continue! I love you so so much!!! :')

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first multichapter thing I've written in _years_ so stick with me and my inconsistent updates. That being said, comments fuel me and will encourage me to actually write ;). You can find me at livendiefortissimo on tumblr if you want to drop a prompt or bully me!


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